This was a Friday night in 1978. Malcolm White, who planned to settle in New Orleans, was visiting Jackson. His Booneville buddy, the late Michael Rubenstein, then a popular Jackson TV sportscaster, suggested they dine at The Mayflower Cafe. And dine they did.

“The place was packed and there was a line waiting outside, and it seemed everyone knew everyone, and of course everyone knew Rube,” White remembers. “The fish was fantastic, the vibe even better. Everybody seemed to be smiling and laughing between bites. I looked a couple tables over and there sat Miss Eudora (Welty), herself, and of course she was having as much fun as everyone else. It just felt like home. It was definitely my kind of place. I had a similar experience at the old Cerami’s at the Reservoir the night before. But that night at The Mayflower I thought to myself, ‘Hmmmm, Jackson, this is a place I could live.’”

Forty-seven years later, White, who became Jackson’s arts and entertainment engine, has never left.

I moved to Jackson a year later, taking a job at The Clarion Ledger with no plans to make Jackson a permanent home. I had similar experiences at The Mayflower. Back then, The Mayflower stayed open until hungry people quit coming in, often well after midnight. We would put the finishing touches to the sports section around midnight and head to the ’Flower for redfish, oysters or soft-shell crab and something cold to drink. Lots of times, we already had eaten the blue plate lunch there, too. Mr. Mike (Kountouris), the longtime owner and an unforgettable character, took care of us. Friday nights were like homecoming. I am not telling you The Mayflower kept me in Jackson all these years, but I am telling you it has been an integral part of my life. It has been for so many. And Friday nights remain like homecoming.

What brings this all to mind this week was The New York Times listing of America’s Top 50 restaurants of 2025. The Mayflower Cafe made the list, along with such nationally renowned restaurants as Emeril’s in New Orleans, Sunny’s Steak House in Miami, and several of the newest, hippest restaurants in food meccas such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Los Angeles.

What sets The Mayflower apart on this week’s list: It opened its doors at the corner of Roach and Capitol 90 years ago. The next oldest restaurant of the Times’ Top 50 is Emeril’s, which opened in 1990. Clearly, The Mayflower endures. Indeed, Malcolm’s father and my dad were Mayflower regulars as far back as the early 1950s. Mississippi governors, political leaders, movers and shakers were regulars even before that. 

But it wasn’t so long ago we regulars feared The Mayflower’s days were numbered. Jerry Kountouris, Mr. Mike’s son who took over for him, was ready to retire and nobody in the Kountouris family wanted to continue the restaurant business. Jerry, who had somehow guided The Mayflower through the pandemic that closed so many restaurants across America, put the business up for sale. For the longest time there were no takers. On more than one occasion, Jerry confided he was ready to close the place.

Enter former Jackson Mayor Kane Ditto and business partner Mart Lamar, who bought the building and convinced Hunter Evans and Cody McCain, owners of the popular and award-winning Elvie’s in Belhaven (which made the same New York Times list in 2022), to run the restaurant. The “new” Mayflower, which kept so much of what made the old Mayflower so special, opened for business in August of 2024. It took all of a year for it to be named one of America’s top 50 restaurants.

Said Ditto, “I just thought it would be devastating for downtown Jackson, especially the west side, if The Mayflower closed. It would have been. I am just so happy we were able to keep it going, and I am happy for this recognition from The New York Times. It is richly deserved.”

It had to be a difficult balancing act for Evans, a James Beard Best Chef finalist, and McCain to decide what to keep of the old place and what to change. Perhaps the best move was to retain many of the people: wait staff, cooks, bussers and security. The menu has remained much the same, from the delectable onion rings to Redfish Jane. So have the sauces. The prices are higher, yes, but surely you have been to the grocery store lately.

Says Evans, “The hardest part was I felt like I had to explain to the old guard that we were not trying to come in here and make it about us and change everything. Our main goal was to preserve the history and story of The Mayflower. We thought the best way to do that was to renovate the dining room with some necessary changes. We didn’t just show up with new ideas and say, ‘Forget the old Mayflower.’ I called old regulars, I asked them about the menu and what they ate, I went to the Department of History and Archives. We care a lot about The Mayflower, everyone who has made this a part of their lives and the significance of this restaurant to our community.” 

Was there added pressure because of the place’s rich history?

“There was a little pressure, for sure, but we also understood what it would take to usher The Mayflower into the next 100 years as well as thrive in our community,” Evans answered. “That is why this recognition is so rewarding. We were able to help share this story that started so long ago. We are a small part in the life of this restaurant but we were able to share the story of this institution to the world.”

There are welcome menu additions such as the feta-brined fried chicken and Trout Amelia. There’s now an oyster bar and a happy hour. Oh, and yes, you need not leave the restaurant to use the restrooms, which are shiny and new and clean. Maybe it was part of the charm of the old Mayflower that, when nature called, you went outside, around the side of the building and up a narrow, dreary stairway to perhaps the most spartan toilets imaginable. I will always remember what my wife said one time, returning from the ladies’ room: “If I ever decide to commit suicide, I know just the place.”

So many memories and stories: 

• Of so many Mayflower nights with the late author and pal Willie Morris, who charmed everyone in the place and who almost always was the last customer to leave before they locked the doors behind him. When paying his tab, Willie once also wrote a check for $10,000 to my then 6-year-old son, and in the memo line he scribbled: “FOR BOOKS!” Willie usually ordered spaghetti, took it away in a to-go box and shared it with his cat, Spit McGee, sometime before dawn. To this day he remains the only person I ever knew to order spaghetti at The Mayflower.
• Of sitting in a booth with my family when the then-Governor and his wife stopped by to chat. The governor went on and on, as politicians do, as we put our dinner on pause. Finally, he left. Said my 3-year-old daughter: “Just who does he think he is?” Out of the mouth of babes…
• Of many lengthy lunches with the late Gov. William Winter who loved The Mayflower almost as much as he loved Mississippi. Every lunch was a history lesson. That’s where he told me about the Southeastern Conference’s first office being just down Roach Street on the 13th floor of the Standard Life Building. As a result of that lunch, a historic marker now marks the spot one block from the front door of The Mayflower.
• And this from Sandra Stevens Burns on Facebook: “My late husband, Warren Burns, was missing, in an Alzheimer’s haze. He was found standing in front of his beloved Mayflower, having walked there from Woodland Hills. When asked how he found it, he grinned and said, ‘I could smell the rolls.’”

For years, I had a long-running bet with Mr. Mike, who always grumbled about the sad state of the old King Edward Hotel, a crumbling home for pigeons and vagrants, just down Capitol Street from The Mayflower. Mr. Mike bet me he would die before the King Edward was either torn down or refurbished. As I often told him, it was a bet he couldn’t win because if he won I couldn’t pay him. He won. Mr. Mike died in 2005. The King Edward reopened as a Hilton Garden Inn in 2009. Mr. Mike was right. He usually was.

His beloved Mayflower Cafe will celebrate its 100th birthday in 2035. I am placing no bets but surely hope to be there. And I hope the soft-shells are in season.