Because our usual Saturday morning breakfast spot was dedicated to some sort of promotional activity this weekend, we drove a few blocks further to an Atlanta institution: Bobby & June's Country Kitchen, just across the 14th Street Bridge.
With rockers on the front porch, hand-lettered signage scrawled on posterboard, and dusty memorabilia nailed to every square inch of wall, this is the kind of place Cracker Barrel pretends to be. But Bobby & June's is the real deal, complete with a staff that's been there since God created chitlins, mugs chipped by years of continuous use, and the sort of haphazard approach to cleanliness associated with many a family-owned joint that's gone to seed.
When we arrived, enthusiastic regulars were reading newspapers at the bar (for the nephews: newspapers are a kind of iPad that does not light up or require batteries) and slurping down platters of grits, country ham, and hotcakes. That hit all the right notes for me, so I ordered a short stack; Clyde went with biscuits, eggs, and grits.
The first *wrong* note? The coffee. Coffee needs to grab the new customer by the lapels, give him a little shake, and say, "You've found your home away from home." Unfortunately, the coffee here was weak and diluted, more "brown crayon dipped in hot water" than "fuel for your morning." Not even liberal use of room-temperature cream could redeem it.
Things didn't get better when the food arrived. My hotcakes were unremarkable and a bit dry, and while Clyde cleaned his plate, none of the stuff on it struck him as engaging or particularly worthy of note. Out of nostalgia, these two vegetarians ordered up a side of bacon, just to see if the meat was the star attraction here, but the strips of pork the server ferried to our table were too salty and slathered with liquid fat to be eaten. One nibble was more than enough.
As we checked out, a gentleman behind the counter was having a conversation with a server about a kitchen crisis: a sauce for one of the lunch items was running low.
"Should we go to the store and get more?" she asked.
The man in charge just shook his head and shrugged. "Nah, just cut it with water."
When we left, Clyde summed things up best: "Been there, done that, don't need to do it again."
But, because we did, you don't have to.
Add comment