Chef Cooper Miller elevates the culinary scene in Tupelo, Mississippi

Words by Nicole Letts

I am standing in line at Fat Mama’s in Natchez, Mississippi, placing an eyes-larger-than-stomach tamales order when someone taps me on the shoulder with a gregarious, “Hey, Nicole!” 

It’s my first time in the city, and I’m here for its popular Food and Wine Festival, so I am not prepared to see anyone I know. When I turn, I see Cooper Miller, the chef behind Forklift in Tupelo, Mississippi. Chef Cooper and I had spoken briefly months before when I had a memorable dinner at his restaurant, and here he was in town for the event too. He spills that he is cooking a whole pig for the tasting spectacular later that day, and I promise to stop by his table to try it, especially since based on my experience at Forklift, I know it will be delicious. Spoiler alert: it was. 

During my first dining experience with Chef Cooper, I was impressed with his ability to have an engaging, detail-oriented conversation while prepping A5 wagyu and shucking oysters. At one point, a small pea crab emerges from an oyster. Even having grown-up noshing bivalves straight from the Gulf my entire life, I am stunned. Never have I ever seen a live crab embedded in an oyster. Chef Cooper regales me with how tasty they are sauteed in butter and eaten whole. Challenge accepted. The rest of my group recoils as I pop the critter into my mouth immediately smitten by its flavor and crunch. As Chef Cooper continues through our coursed meal, we chat about his background. He cut his teeth in Atlanta, and we determine he was among the chefs at Ford Frye’s now-shuttered JCT Kitchen that likely prepared the food for my intimate wedding at JCT Bar in 2013, proving it’s a small world after all. Below, we catch-up once again, discussing his love for his craft and his role as a mentor. 

How did cooking become your passion?

I was never into food; I was the epitome of a picky eater in my younger years, so it was a necessity in the beginning because I needed a job in college [at Mississippi State]. I started washing dishes at Anthony's in West Point, and I'll never forget one night the fry guy got sick, and I got thrown to the wolves to work the fry station. When the shift ended, I was covered in flour and beaten down. But at the end of the night, the team came up, patted me on the back and told me good job. Something about that camaraderie stuck with me. Through college, I kept working in kitchens, and then there was a guy named Chef Eric, who was running the Hotel Chester restaurant at that time, and he was the closest thing to a real chef in town. I went in to apply to be a line cook with him to learn from him, but found out when I got there that he had just quit, and they needed an executive chef, and I was offered the job. I winged it pretty good for a while, but I quickly found out that I wasn't qualified. 

How did that college kid become a classically trained chef? 

One night my wife began applying me to culinary schools without me knowing. All of a sudden, I started getting acceptance letters to culinary schools. I was always attracted to classic French training, so I wanted to get a base in that style of cooking. I chose Le Cordon Bleu in Atlanta, and we moved there. 

I was so passionate about it. I was the first one there every morning, and the last one to leave. I was always going to the market, buying whole fish, going home, and practicing my knife skills. It paid off. I ended up graduating summa cum laude and took a sous chef position on my externship. I found my calling. 

What do you think was appealing about Le Cordon Blue as far as that more strict and traditional style of cooking? 

I think I was looking for structure. You had to do things a very certain way, at a very certain time, at a very certain temperature, or you'd mess up the whole thing. Later in life I found lots of tricks to make Beurre blanc and hollandaise, but back then I didn’t know that. You really had to be able to clarify the butter and stand there over that stove with the right temperature and whisk that thing at the right time, or you were going to get a broken sauce. I always loved the procedure. Sure, you can throw butter and flour in a pot to make a roux, but if you slowly add it, stand there, and whisk it with a wooden spoon, it will taste better. 

You've worked with some reputable, well-known chefs at this point, and now you are among them. Who of them stands out as a mentor? 

Peter Golaszewski was an executive chef at The Feed Store in College Park in Atlanta, and he took me on as a sous chef on my externship. He was the first guy to take me under his wing and show me everything he had learned along the way. It was very influential as far as how I turned out as a chef. He had this lamb and ginger stew, and for some reason those flavors just never really sounded great in my head. But man, when he would make that, he'd make this candied ginger biscuit to go on top of it. It was some of the best food I've ever had in my life. 

I worked with Gary Mennie a little bit later. He ran Canoe in Atlanta as well as The Livingston. He taught me more trial by fire. He'd walk out in the middle of the shift, and just be like, “Alright, have fun guys!” At the time I thought he was crazy, but looking back on it, we had a really solid team. Zeb Stevenson [formerly of Atlanta’s Redbird] and I worked there together. It was a crazy time to be a young chef. Later, Ryan Smith [of Atlanta’s recently Michelin starred Staplehouse] and I worked at Holeman and Finch along with Jarrett Stieber (of Michelin Atlanta Young Chef Award 2023 and Michelin Bib Gourmand designated Little Bear), and David Bies (of Michelin Guide’s Ticonderoga Club). Today, almost every one of those chefs I worked with for 10 years in Atlanta is either running their own place or have been awarded some awesome awards. 

How is Forklift a showcase of all of these years of experience and all of this technique?

It hasn't taken much effort, honestly. It’s who I am after 10 years of working and learning from the best in the South, if not the country, in my opinion. When I got here, the goal was to bring a slice of the big city to Tupelo. We refuse to get comfortable. We painstakingly search out the best stuff that our region has to offer. Then, we do as little to it as possible and put it on a plate. Once you get in here, we're going to impress you with the food, and I guarantee you'll be back. 

One of the taglines on your website is “love your craft.” How do you love your craft and how do you encourage your staff to love it too? 

It just exudes out of me how much I love what I do, which is important in defining who we are as a restaurant. When I sit a plate of food in front of somebody, I instantly see their eyes light up because it's presented beautifully. Then I see their face when they take that first bite. Later, they stop by on the way out and tell me it's the best bite of food they've had in the last year. I just love that. I love to see somebody come in, get a good drink, have a good bite of food, and have their spirits lifted.