Folsom Grill: It only looks like a prison.

  

Look for the sign on Monroe Street.
It's on the opposite side of the building from the Folsom Grill.


Deep in The Gump, in a state office building opened in 1958, on the back side of Goat Hill, state employees and the occasional outsider all cherish The Grill in the Folsom Administrative Building. Why do they cherish it? It's convenient, the staff is pleasant, and you can get something to eat.

It is a place to find sustenance. It has rules ("Crackers are free with salad. $.10 per pack otherwise"). It has specials ("Tuesday Breakfast Special. 1 sausage. 1 biscuit. $1.10). It has two salad bars side by side (No explanation). It has styrofoam boxes and plastic cutlery. It was redone in 1990, after existing for 32 years in its original condition (formica tables, plastic booths). It was flooded in the last few years. It endures. At age 52, it ranks up there with Chris's Hot Dogs and the Farmers' Market Cafe for longevity in The Gump.

Monday through Friday, one can enter The Grill on the first floor of the Folsom Building and get breakfast or lunch. A "breakfast special" will bless one with eggs, sausage or bacon, grits, a biscuit, all in a pristine styrofoam box, with coffee, for less than $4. The box will be heavy in your hand, laden with carbohydrates, some protein, and some grease. Or, one can order a la carte, and get eggs with crispy sausage patties you can eat like a cookie, cheap.


Breakfast from the Folsom Grill.
$2.35.
(Did that sausage just wink at me??)

 For lunch, one can make a salad or visit one of the three serving stations for meats (something fried is always available), overcooked vegetables, and bread of some type. During breaks (which seem to last all day for some), one can find coffee, tea, and conversation in the seating area.

This is just basic Gump home cookin', folks. You will find something you like, or at least something you can tolerate, satisfy a rumbling stomach, and suffer little damage to your wallet. I ate there about 3 times a week for 17.5 years, and I survived.

I drank much coffee, listened to many stories, suffered much cigarette smoke, and watched the people go by, every weekday afternoon from 1972 to 1989. I went back last week to get some breakfast (see above).

The Folsom Grill is a non-profit cooperative, operated by an anonymous group of state employees. It keeps on going.

Microgump: Eating Cornbread at Martin's Restaurant

The LITE Menu (I'm not kidding)

Being new to the group I wondered why LITG had not yet rated the place consistently rated No. 1 in The Montgomery Advertiser's "Peoples' Choice" award for: (1) Fried Chicken; (2) "Southern Cooking" and (3) Iced tea. After all, the place has benches outside because it usually is pretty crowed with...I must say it...some of the fatest people on earth (especially if you go early to beat the crowd). If you ever recoiled at the damage Waffle House has done to American waistlines, just sit alone at Martins around 11:30 a.m. and watch the parade of obesity squeeze through the front doors for their fried chicken fix. Please do not eat there alone because, if you do, your mind eventually wanders into people watching mode which, at Martins, invariably leads to the sin of smug, condescending judgments about the size of the clientele (at least if you are only mildly overweight after a Thanksgiving of splurging). Many had a former professional wrestler gut like Tojo Yamamoto (I've only seen him once from distance and he was still large from a distance).  My mental victims, on the other hand, are probably thinking: "Why is that goofy guy wearing an ankle bracelet?" To which I say to myself: "NONE OF YOUR BEESWAX FATTY! And stop looking at my buttered muffins!"

One muffin missing. Two in mortal danger.

One thing I can say unequivocably about Martin's: They have some of the best cornbread I have eaten and they bring it to you like other restaurants bring your bread and water glass: quick. And it is right out of the pan, hot and ready to be swathered in fake butter from the ample supply of tins on the table. Three, count-em, three muffins per customer, one for each of the jelly rolls lopping over your belt. As a true cornbread lover, I must say the meal goes downhill after you gobble up your Martin's cornbread and drink the excellent iced tea (unsweetened of course because you are watching your girlish figure as you down the third muffin before the meal arrives).

As sort of a poor joke on the obese, there is a LITE menu which features only one huge fried chicken breast along with two sides and three cornbread muffins with unlimited margerine. Obviously, I chose the LITE meal because it sounded better for me. Here, I have to say, the Davis Cafe & Lounge kicks Martin's butt all over the plate. Unlike the succulence of the Davis Cafe bird, the Martin's fowl was a little dry and had almost no seasoning. I also noted more bones than normal chickens are supposed to have. Perhaps my skills at dismembering the breast with a fork are to blame, but I was constantly chomping on bones--which is rarely fun with regard to eating yardbird. If this were a competition, the score would be Martins 1, Davis 1 after the entre.

Since the prices (about $8.50) are comparable, the tiebreaker would have to be dessert. Here, Martin's has a decided edge. Their fried pies are delicious and homemade and guaranteed to blow any diet, real or imagined.

The winner by a muffin top: Martin's Restaurant, 1796 Carter Hill Road. They are open 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. M-F and for Sunday Brunch. They serve dinner and things other than chicken (like chicken livers). They have a high local rating because....its an icon!! It has been around since 1940 and the service is quick and friendly. I would give it a 3.5 of 5 hot corn muffins soaked in real butter.

"Luke...I sense a disturbance in the Force": The Hotel Talisi Burns

Today they could be excused for overcooking the chicken

After four days of an L-Tryptophan turkey coma, no LITG member was prepared to do anything but eat left-over turkey sandwhiches while they pondered "The Butterfly Effect," you know: that theory that says that if you bop a baby seal in the head with a stick in Canada it causes a Puffin in Ireland to fly into a boiling pot.

THIS CAUSES THIS:

Well, today we felt the unseen waves caused by a disruption in the Fried Chicken Force that surrounds the Gump when we learned of the tragic fire that has damaged an icon of buffet lunchage: The Hotel Talisi. Who among you--if you are a true MontGumphrian--has not heard of nor eaten fried chicken or banana pudding at the Hotel Talisi in Tallassee? Who among you has not marvelled at the tacky victorian furniture in the lobby (that probably served as kindling) or wondered what it would be like to actually stay there overnight? (Do you know anyone anyone who actually stayed there overnight?)

Well say what you wish about Man-Made Global Warming E-mail hoaxes or The Butterfly Effect, we Gumpers all sensed a disturbance in the Force today. And although it did not affect the Gump proper, we all felt a little lower than our overeating during the Holidays and extra poundage could explain. I, for one, believe it was at least partially due to the effect of the loss--hopefully temporary--of our compatriate luncheon spot to the Northeast. We all hope the grande dame of grease will rise from these ashes to once again serve some of the best Southern Cookin' in these parts. At least, hope springs eternal when lunch is involved.

Update: 12/21/09: It's Worse Than We Thought....

Was visiting the River Region north of the Gump Sunday and snapped this picture of the Hotel Talisi, or what's left of it.  A return doesn't look promising, especially in this financial climate.

Lunch in the Gump: The Stockyard Cafe is a Smoking Establishment Dammit!

Webster’s defines ambiance as: the mood, character, quality, tone, atmosphere, etc., particularly of an environment or milieu: The restaurant had a delightful ambiance.

A hoity-toity, mamby-pamby restaurant reviewer might note sarcastically that nothing says ambiance like the lack of ventilation, boosted cafeteria trays from other eateries and misspelled handwritten signage. Such faux pauxs would result in an automatic one or two fork deduction. Not so fast my friend, for these very environs at Furnace Street’s finest -- The Stockyard Café -- only enhance the dining experience. However, the accent on the “e” in the word "cafe" is a little misplaced when used with the word "Stockyard". They don't put the little accent on the e on their homemade signage at the Stockyard Cafe.

But just imagine the games you could play on a return trip: Will I get a the Smoke House BBQ tray? I hope not a plain “lunchroom green one”, or dare I think … the coveted antique “Francis Cafeteria” tray? Oh my. But what are the LITGers really looking for? If it’s uniqueness, it’s here. If it’s a flair for the genteel, not so much. But I challenge you to find another establishment where everyone, regardless of gender, race, creed or nationality is greeted with “What would you like baby?” even when their first name is over their shirt pocket.

That's the Montgomery Serum Company across the street. Don't ask us what "serum" means.

Now getting there is also somewhat of a gamble. I can’t begin to explain how to do it so plug "1464 Furnace Street" into your GPS. Keep your doors locked, eyes forward and do not stop to ask for directions. Those of you dealing in “Bull Serum” know the Stockyard Café is right across the street from that establishment. The Café is open from 6 a.m. to 11 a.m. for breakfast (we hear the breakfast is really good) and from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. for lunch M-F. Sorry, no dinner and no bar.

Yes, it is a smoking hot establishment. It is so hot it had to be on "Furnace Street" (thanks annoymous).

Back on point, the Stockyard experience begins with a simple statement posted on the door: “This is a smoking establishment” and while one would hope that describes the waitress staff, such is not the case. It is however, an accurate description of what emanates from the kitchen window and some patrons enjoying a non-filtered fine tobacco product. There ought to also be another sign on the door: “This is an NRA Establishment. Everyone is packing heat.” The place oozes grease and confidence like their patrons. They even give away raw onions and peppers to those who don't care how they smell from either end. Once inside, you must deal with the previously noted tray selection and a friendly toothless counter-gal asking “What’ll you have baby?” It is the luck of the draw and tray wagering will all but certainly take place on future visits.

Minding the store

This LITG venture was so well attended we needed two bodyguards watching the parking lot. And judging from the similarities of the selected dishes served on meat and vegetable segregated china, if the fried chicken was not up to established southern standards this was going to be a sad gastronomic experience for all. However, the Stockyard’s fried chicken is over the top. It truly conjures the thought of a LITG sponsored fry-off between this little-know institution and the fried chicken giant that is Martin’s Restaurant (see previous reviews). The vegetables? Fresh. Each selected the real mashed potatoes, some with gravy conveniently dipped from the adjacent chopped steak bin, some not, but all delicious. The field peas were divine and the squash casserole seemed to have come from grandma’s own hands. While the Stockyard does not offer an exhaustive bill of fare, what they do serve is fresh and fine. And you obviously do not have to know how to spell “bread” to rustle up some fine hot cornbread. Last but certainly not least, at the Stockyard you are given the option right up front for your beverage to be served in your very own go-cup. Plate clean and belly sated, for $8 all-in (i.e. including tax): 4 warm corn muffins.

Lunch in the Gump: The Immaculate Succulence: Davis Cafe Chicken and Cornbread

Deep in the bowels of north Montgumphery near Brendle Fire on "N" Decatur stands a entymological, epicurial and historical landmark: The Davis Cafe & Lounge. Entymological? Yes. It is the location of the first known usage of the word "succulent" to describe a non-plant i.e. fried chicken. It occurred in 1938 when founder Oscar Davis tried to suck the marrow out of the the hot, juicy chicken breasteses served with turnips, collards and hot cornbread. Prior to then, the word "succulent" was only used to describe certain watery plants. Oscar's mis-use of the word was adopted quickly and today, "juicy good" is the first idea that comes to mind when the word "succulent" is used. Check your dictionary and prior unsanctioned scouting review.

Epicurial? No doubt. Nothing from the kitchen of the Davis Cafe is from frozen source materials. Everything, and I do mean everything except the tubs of fake margerine, is hot, fresh and homemade. Which means you may have to wait a little bit to get your lunch while they actually fry it. The fried chicken may be the best in the Gump--Martin's notwithstanding. Now you have to overlook the less than optimal outside appearance of the place and, perhaps even the seedy interior environs. But if you get past the cover, the "book" can be judged by the content and taste of the authentic soul food the place is famous for. An added benefit is that the cost is very reasonable. You can eat a fine lunch at the Davis Cafe for under $8 (including tip). When you enter just find an open table, the handwritten menu and soon a friendly waitress will be by to take your order.

Historical? I would say so. Legend has it that Cleopatra was crowned as the first African Queen of Egypt by historians at the Davis Cafe. Also, we know that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. ate there often and probably Rosa Parks had lunch there the day she refused to give up her seat and move to the back of the bus. The place ought to be on the Civil Rights tour. Any day you eat there you may see local judges like Johnny Hardwick or Charlie Price enjoying the homey feel of a place where everyone is welcome. So far, we know of no relation to Congressman Artur Davis but the jury is still out on that.

Bottom line: This place is a classic that is worth the effort to find and the courage to walk through the door of a place that doesn't need flashy signs or decour to attract a loyal following of repeat customers.

I would rate it very high for fried chicken and cornbread. Forget the margerine.

Binion.