Poole’s Bar-B-Q, East Ellijay GA

I had to track down Randy before I wrote up this chapter and let him know what I was going to say, for fear that he might think that I was making a passive-aggressive swipe at him when I say that Poole’s is probably the most improved restaurant that I have ever visited. They’ve gone from a regional curiosity to something downright amazing.

Last week, Marie and Ivy and I drove up I-575 to the mountain town of Ellijay to buy some apples. There’s a really great place on the right just after you enter Gilmer County called Panorama Orchards, and while you could very well load up with all sorts of jams and jellies and salsas, you can also spend late summer and early fall loading up on fresh apples. Marie got several pecks – Fujis, Mutsus, Arkansas Black – to share and to snack and to bake into pies. That’s a very agreeable way to spend an hour.

A little further north, and technically in the town of East Ellijay, there’s an intersection where, within spitting distance of each other, you used to be able to find a Pizza King, a Burger King, a Waffle King and a Mexican restaurant called El Rey. The Waffle King has gone now – I suspect this old chain might well have left Georgia entirely – but I still think of this place as “King’s Corner.” A zigzag right and a left from there brings you to the Pig Hill of Fame, and one of the state’s silliest and tackiest restaurants. Once upon a time, Colonel Oscar Poole fell afoul of some county sign ordinance or other and responded by turning his property into a glorious eyesore. The building is painted in vibrant, bright colors, and the land behind the restaurant is covered with small, flat, wooden pig signs which customers can buy for a small fee and have their names listed there until weather erodes them away.

Poole himself is quite a trip. I only saw him in person once, briefly, years back, but I can’t think of a restaurateur in the state who’s been photographed as often as him. He’s a little hard to miss. He’s kind of a cross between Grandpa Munster and Uncle Sam. He even drives a car that Grandpa might have found funny.

If you read between the lines of earlier chapters, you might have picked up that I don’t care for having politics inserted into my meals when I go out. You might have also have detected that the politics to which I object would be the Republican variety. But really, what makes a place unfriendly isn’t a discussion of ideas, it’s that grim, quiet, paranoia that unhappy people spend time seething about. It’s when loudmouths start parroting whatever hate radio talking point passes for discourse, and loudmouths have been doing this long before anybody heard of Barack Obama. I’ve been quietly declining to return to restaurants owned by such morons for many years.

Poole, on the other hand, may be as Republican as they get, but he is having the time of his life. He wants to tell everybody how fantastic a job he has, and how his faith and outlook and damn hard work and, yes, political views, have helped made him a success. He’s optimistic and wild and carefree, and basically everything good about people. If you don’t leave this place with a smile, something must be wrong with you, because his upbeat and fabulous attitude is evident in all the staff, the decor, the photographs and the building itself. You are guaranteed a very good time here.

For quite a few years, however, this didn’t translate into very good barbecue. Randy stayed up here in the mountains for a few years and we ate here a couple of times (maybe in 2003-04) and then ate again at the antacid counter of the local drug store. It was, then, a place to visit for the considerable spectacle, but the pork was just so greasy that it really disappointed.

I told a lot of people this. I used to have an old barbecue review page on Geocities and shared this disappointment with everyone who came to it. I don’t know whether Poole ever saw that page or whether he concluded on his own that his pork was too fatty and gross and his recipe needed changing, but I can tell you this: I once had two meals here, about a year apart, which were marred by the heavy, greasy aftertaste, and a meal this past week which was easily among the best plates of barbecue that I’ve had in the state of Georgia. Top ten, easy. I was prepared to sop up the pork with a paper towel before I started eating, but was very pleasantly surprised. The pork was dry and very smoky, and so incredibly flavorful. I can’t remember ever having a meal at a restaurant that much of a 180-degree turn towards the positive before, ever. It wasn’t just the pork, either. We also had onion rings, Brunswick stew, baked beans, green beans and mac and cheese as sides, and everything was incredibly tasty.

The restaurant was amazingly busy on this Saturday – they call in extra, volunteer help for Ellijay’s apple festival, which brings in thousands of tourists – and we arrived along with a huge tour group from a Baptist church in Louisiana, most of whom were wearing LSU shirts. Let’s see, they had this great barbecue for lunch and the Tigers beat Florida in The Swamp that evening. Sounds like everybody there had a fine Saturday.

(Of course, the small irony in comparing Oscar Poole to Grandpa Munster is that Grandpa Al Lewis was about as left-wing as they get, although equally bombastic and fun. No offense, Col. Poole.)

Bourbon salmon fillets with Penzeys Northwoods Fire seasoning

Normally, when we feature a little writeup about one of the nifty meals that Marie cooks, she’ll think about penning a few words about it. This time, however, the idea and the craving was all mine, and even though she executed it quite perfectly, I’m the one who should tell you about it.

When we were in Memphis back in June, I did a little “advance shopping” while Marie was still asleep – she sleeps a lot more than me – and I was flipping through the Penzeys Spices catalog. She wrote then about how wild and satisfying a trip to one of Penzeys retail stores is, and the catalog’s not far behind it in the getting-you-real-hungry stakes. Penzeys employs a team of very clever and imaginative copywriters to tell stories and give diners and chefs ideas for how to cook with their spices and seasonings, and I found my mouth watering with the prospect of trying out their Northwoods or Northwoods Fire concoction.

From their website:

A great place to fish, an even better place to eat. This Northern Wisconsin-style blend is a traditional mix that is a perfect seasoning for family-style fried or baked chicken and fish, green salads with oil and vinegar, egg and potato salad, and Door County-style fish boils. Use heavily, 1 tsp. per pound, for meats and vegetables. Hand-mixed from: coarse flake salt, paprika, black pepper, thyme, rosemary, garlic and chipotle.

Ooooh. If that doesn’t make you want to drop some trout in a cast iron skillet with some olive oil and a thin pat of butter, there’s just no hope for you.

And yet Marie broke my heart when, after she and her sister concluded their epic shopping trip to the Penzeys retail store in Memphis, there wasn’t a jar of Northwoods or Northwoods Fire (which is pretty similar, but with extra paprika and chipotle) in her gargantuan bag. In all her frenzy and excitement about everything, my request was completely forgotten! She felt bad about it afterwards – mainly on account of me teasing her – and agreed that the next time that she placed a catalog order, or we went to a store, we’d get some for me. She realized that there was a store in Birmingham, and so a stop there was part of our recent day trip out there. Northwoods Fire was acquired, along with quite a few dollars’ worth of other lovely spices in preparation for Christmas baking, and now it was down to me to get some fish.

I don’t mind telling you that I was a little stymied in getting what I wanted here. Rather than trout, Marie and my daughter each agreed that they’d rather have salmon. I just went to the seafood counter at Publix and went with their bourbon-marinated salmon as that was the least expensive option. Honestly, it turned out even better than I hoped, so no complaints here.

So we had a little rice and some veggies and Marie gave the fillets a good coating of Northwoods Fire. We don’t actually have a cast iron skillet, but we do have a quite spectacular grill that could be used four times as often with no complaint from me. Marie, by the way, is turning into quite the grillmaster. Her steaks are consistently amazing, but I think that this salmon might be her best concoction yet.

Having said that, I’m still keen to try this on some trout sometime soon. Maybe with a little squeeze of lemon? Mmmm. My mouth is tingling already.

Folks Southern Kitchen, Marietta GA (CLOSED)

The story of Atlanta’s Folks Southern Kitchen is another one where the small chain’s heyday seems to be behind them. However, unlike a couple of the earlier stories I’ve told here about, say, The Mad Italian and Old Hickory House, where the last remaining outpost of a chain is struggling to remain relevant, Folks still seems to have a pretty good bit of life in it. I say this even though the chain, which once numbered twenty stores in north Georgia, is down to ten around I-285. Two more, in Cumming and McDonough, were recently converted to a new “concept,” Rusty Rooster Cafe, which apparently serve very similar food in a “fast casual” setting. That we’re talking about food in terms like “concepts” and “fast casual” is probably a warning flag to many food lovers that the food’s quality might have been a little lost under the weight of marketing.

Folks was originally called, and you’ll love this, Po Folks. The first store opened in 1978. I’m not sure which that was, but I recall that the one on 41 and Windy Hill must have opened around that time. It had a bright red roof and all of the signage and menus were written in a tacky font meant to represent the scrawlings of an illiterate hillbilly. My own folks got takeaway from them quite frequently – their sweet tea was said to be the best of any restaurant – but I don’t remember ever actually eating there.

In 1994, the chain converted all of its locations from Po Folks to Folks Southern Kitchen. The reds were changed to greens, the hillbilly scrawls were replaced with a more elegant script, and, since Folks weren’t po no mo, the prices went up. It was this incarnation that expanded to its peak in number of stores, but a few years ago, the contraction began. I recall that they shuttered the restaurants in Roswell and Smyrna right at the same time, and probably a few others as well. I rarely see any advertising for this chain anymore.

Without making too much hoopla about it, my daughter loves Folks, and when we gave her a turn to pick an activity for our weekly dinner-or-movie night, she suggested this place. So last week, Marie and I took her to supper, meeting up with Neal, Samantha, Randy and Kimberly. Circumstances forced us to have a pretty long dinner; our server was congenial and attentive, but also incredibly slow. I thought that we’d never get our checks at the end of the evening.

Marie ordered the rainbow trout and declared it very tasty. It came with some mixed vegetables and sweet potato waffle fries. Sweet potato fries seem to be quite trendy lately, but these are the first ones that I can recall that are done waffle-style. My daughter had a chicken pot pie that she enjoyed very much and a side of Brunswick stew. I almost always just have a veggie plate here, since everything they offer as a side is as good or better as their entrees. This time out, I had fried green tomatoes, calico beans and corn nuggets.

Everyone really enjoyed their meal, but special praise was reserved for the bread. Folks serves up these incredibly tasty peach muffins that everybody really enjoys; Randy and Kimberly ordered another half-dozen to take home. Marie bucked the trend by having a biscuit and everyone else asked whether she was feeling all right.

And that’s the story of Folks. They may be smaller than they once were, marketing-synergy-speaking gobbledygook may be vomited all over their web pages, and the place may be as quiet as the grave in the evenings, but the food remains quite good. They talk big about their recipes being made from scratch and prepared fresh daily, and while it may lack the individual attention and focus of something smaller, it’s still a reasonably good dinner out, for rich or po.

Ike & Jane, Athens GA

This past Wednesday, I practiced my notion of visiting Athens and enjoying two small meals, at least one of which I can write up for this blog, on either side of spending a couple of hours downtown visiting friends and buying comic books. For this trip, I had a small sandwich and a bowl of chicken mull at the Butt Hutt, about which I wrote in July, and then moseyed over to Ike & Jane on Prince Avenue on my way out of town for a devilishly decadent treat. Continue reading “Ike & Jane, Athens GA” →

Marie’s B-B-Q House, Heflin AL

Because, as I’ve mentioned, I am a little mercenary and wanted specifically to add an extra chapter or two to this blog, I hoped to grab one more small bite to eat before we got back to Atlanta. So on our way into town, I noticed that there was an outpost of a small, somewhat well-known barbecue chain located in St. Clair County, and decided that when we left Birmingham several hours later, we would stop by and have a snack and another entry. It didn’t work out that way; we did indeed pull off at that exit to gas up, but darned if we weren’t all still so stuffed from the sandwiches at Kool Korner that none of us could face the prospect of ordering even a single sandwich. Continue reading “Marie’s B-B-Q House, Heflin AL” →

Kool Korner Sandwiches, Birmingham AL

I must admit that within a couple of minutes of entering Kool Korner Sandwiches, I was completely baffled. I had read up on the place, which is in a Publix strip mall in the Vestavia Hills suburb of Birmingham, and followed the reviews and looked over their web site, all of which promised the best and most authentic Cuban sandwiches in the southeast from this brand-spanking new restaurant. Well, I was game. What I did not expect was the sight of all the awards on the wall labeling Kool Korner the home of the best sandwiches in Atlanta for several years. Continue reading “Kool Korner Sandwiches, Birmingham AL” →

Pete’s Famous Hot Dogs, Birmingham AL (CLOSED)

So I was sketching out this trip and my daughter requested a hot dog while we were in Birmingham. That suited me just fine; I’m mercenary enough to want to add more chapters to this blog, and we had bypassed Pete’s Famous Hot Dogs, arguably the best-known restaurant in the city, in favor of one of its competitors the last time we visited. Having now tried both, I’m prepared to make an unusual claim: I prefer the dog that George makes at Gus’s to the one that Gus makes at Pete’s. Continue reading “Pete’s Famous Hot Dogs, Birmingham AL (CLOSED)” →