Eat Mor Chikin? The Roast Beast at Martin's Restaurant




If they had room, the chickens would be rolling around in their cages....


Inspired by those brave young Gump Guinea Pigs, I decided to eat outside the box during one of my frequent visits to local fried chicken and cornbread icon: Martin's Restaurant. Every now and then a little change of pace spices up one's mundane day to day grind. Today, being Valentine's Day, I invited my sweetie Myrtle to lunch on her favorite fried chicken and cornbread at Martins in honor of our seven non-consecutive years of living together. In fact, Martins is about the only incentive that will get old Mert out of the trailer park and away from her DVR collection of "The Biggest Loser" episodes (and her vodka and milk).

After seven years with the same person some things get a little old. Same is true of even our favorite restaurants and, darn it, even very good fried chicken. So today while Myrtle ordered her usual white meat with three sides one being fried green tomatoes (only available every other day), I took a walk on the wild side with an order of the Roast Beast. When I ordered Myrtle looked up from her menu with a curious expression that turned to one of affection. "Wow," she purred, "You thinking of doing something different is exciting." I knew that look and said: "Would you like a bite of my roast beast?" She replied in a husky whisper: "You might get a bite later if you're lucky...."

Fish on!

When the meal came (with extra cornbread of course), I was not disappointed. The roast beast was fork-cutting tender and not so much to eat that I had to loosen my belt at the table. I noted that Myrtle's Spanx were visably undulating as she chowed down on the cornbread but of course I said nothing so as not to destroy the "try something new" Karma. Indeed, Myrtle loved the little nip of beef (a few more bites) and started murmuring something about she making it worth my while back at the castle on wheels tonight. She had completely forgotten that I had not given her any card or roses this Valentines Day. And not one word about getting hitched after all these years of living in sin. (After all, she needs to go ahead and get that divorce first). I sealed the deal with a double order of 'nanner pudding which she gobbled until her Spanx almost blew.

So, to hell with all these commercial devices designed to shame us menfolk into spending money on things completely impractical. Who needs diamonds, chocolates, flowers and cards? I say the way to a woman's heart is through her pie hole. To prove it I can only say that Mert and I left Martin's hand in hand with a warm glow in our bellies, lust in our hearts and feeling much better about ourselves and our relationship than when we walked in. After today I think there may be a case for considering cornbread an aphrodisiac, especially when warm and lathered with whipped butter from the Land-O-Lakes.

Heck, after tonight I may even pay the filing fee for her divorce.

I just hope I can stay awake while she watches "The Biggest Loser".

Bra-cha-cha!

Island Delight: What a Jerk!

Outside the Comfort Zone: Island Delight

Every now and then we all need to get outside our comfort zones by trying something different. You know, like paying your child support on time or drilling oil wells a mile deep in the Gulf. My comfort zone for lunch is your typical fried chicken with three sides with some hot cornbread muffins and real butter. But today I ate lunch where they serve "beef" oxtails (get your mind around that thought) and "Curry Goat":

Is there an Ox-Oxtail?

Where was I, you ask? Well I ventured out onto Airbase Boulevard, within the shadow of the entrance to Maxwell AFB on the west side of the Gump, and tried the Caribbean fare at "Island Delight." Undeterred by the bars on the windows, I entered and found a well-lit, clean and friendly place with several out-of-the-ordinary meat selections: Jerk chicken, King fish, beef oxtails and curry goat. The "sides" were also out of the box. I'd heard of but never had fried plantains before. But the thing that caught my eye was the "festival" which I had never ever heard of before. I decided to stick with the more conservative choice so I ordered jerked chicken. "Jerked" chicken is not obnoxious chicken with an attitude that won't return your calls. "Jerked" chicken is roasted/grilled after being rubbed with a "jerk" seasoning (sort of like beef jerky). At Island Delight the jerk chicken was delicious and not greasy. The extra "jerk" sauce on the side had a little kick which I supplemented with the Jamaica hot sauce on the table. Before I dug in the plate looked like this:

Almost enough to feed Tojo!

Everything, the vegetables, rice with beans and jerked chicken was terrific. Hell, it might even have been good for me when compared to a greasy meat and three. But the discovery of the week was that little brown thing you see at the left of the chicken and below the tub of jerk sauce: That, my friends, is a "festival." What, you ask, is a "festival"? Well it is sort of a sweet fried cornbread that kicks most of the so-called cornbread offerings in the Gump in the butt. Now I certainly don't know how to cap a mile-deep oil well blow-out. But I do know my cornbread and I could eat a lot of this festival stuff. It's light and tasty and needs no extra butter. It melts in the mouth.

If you are the skittish type and like to eat among yuppies, this Island Delight is not your place. But if you have a little adventuresome spirit and a group looking to eat off the usual menu, I can highly recommend this little hole in the wall on the "other" Boulevard. Next time I may even try the oxtails!

Carping the Center for Commerce Cafe

[Ed. Update: 12/12/2011: Today a re-visit resulted in a warm cornbread muffin that actually melted the butter gecko.  Big improvement.]

You may have noticed all the big new expensive-looking buildings in the Gump with green roofs. The green roofs are the trademark of an upscale cafeteria-styled restaurant chain by the name of "Bronner's" financed by the retirement accounts of all of our friendly "Stateys" (you know, people who work for the state). Recently, the LITG gang (Tojo, B-Diddy, Show Dog and Cornbread Carp) decided to visit the Bronner's at the Commerce Cafe which is located, naturally, at 401 Adams Avenue in the first floor of The Center For Commerce. The allure was the chance to lunch at the restaurant where the owner, David Bronner, eats his lunch every day he is in Montgomery surrounded by his adoring minions and amongst his cash-cow Stateys. We were indeed fortunate for as we grabbed our trays and utensils, there at his usual "reserved" table, sat Dr. Bronner himself pontificating about this and that while his loyal subjects nodded in agreement and tried to finish their lunches before Bronner walked away from the table.

When you eat among state royalty you expect a higher qualify of fare than the usual crap we normally eat back home at the trailer or at the typical Gump greasy spoon. B-Diddy, a huge fan of the place, was impressed. He ordered a hand-shaped burger from the guy at the grille who used to run "Choo-Choo's". He raved that is was one of the top burgers in the Gump and then, for good measure, dropped the name of former Alabama defensive back Jeff Tackle Block, one of the most fussy eaters in the Gump, as a person who "loves this place."

But, as we all know, there are two sides to every entree and story. My story is not so satisfying. You see I, unfortunately, made the mistake of going to the "meat and three" table and ordering the pork loin with cornbread dressing, turnips and a cornbread muffin. As my pen-name suggests, I have a thing for cornbread. I like it so much I can almost try to make it myself. When the otherwise tasty looking muffin was tonged onto my plate I had no idea of what I was about to encounter. I stopped by the center aisle and picked up two little plastic tubs of "Promise" which is some sort of fake butter so I could slather it in and over the pretty little muffin on my tray when I got to my table. It did not take me 20 seconds to pay and be seated. When I went to halve the muffin for the Promise slathering I was stunned to find that the muffin was not even room temperature. It was like it had been sitting outside on a 55 degree day (yes we have them here too). To prove my case I documented the whole event.

Exhibit One: Taken Seconds after the Slathering of Promise. Notice the gecko shaped daub of "butter" on the top of the muffin.
Now pay attention to the butter gecko in the following pictures (which also document the attack on a burger in the background by B-Diddy).

Exhibit two: Ten Minutes Later

Exhibit 3: Fifteen Minutes Later: Pork Loin and dressing gone.

Exhibit 4: Twenty Minutes Later: Turnips devoured.

Exhibit 5: The Year 2050

Notice anything? Does the "butter gecko" seem to move at all? Does it melt even a little? No it doesn't. It hangs in there like a hair on a biscuit. Actually it appears as frozen and cold as the muffin it sits atop. I am cursed to notice things like that. Now I am no expert on the ingredients of butter substitutes or margarine products (other than in one of my jobs I had to clean the lard trap at an oleo factory) but my experience has been that that crap melts even at room temperature and separates into oily yellow goo. In these pictures not only does the "butter" not melt, it becomes emboldened and takes a bite out of the muffin. I would wager that, if left undisturbed, this muffin and butter gecko would be found by archeologists 1000 years from now in the same pristine and inedible condition. As you can tell, it was not a good day for the cornbread carp. The pork loin wasn't very tasty either. My mother got better food at the hospital recently.

On the other hand, it was cheap. $6.05 for the whole meal (with water) so its got that going for it. However, inexpensive food does not make up for a cold muffin incapable of melting congealed oil to one who prizes a warm cornbread muffin soaked in real butter. So, despite the fact that I was eating in the presence of Dr. Bronner himself and in one of the green roofed palaces which house the "Bronner's" restaurants, I have to give this place a so-so ranking.

Celebrating New Year's Eve at The Pine Street Cafe

I took lunch today at a little known Gump cafe (short for cafeteria) which has been operating at 1725 Pine Street near beautiful Oak Park for over 75 years.  The Pine Street Cafe offers a variety of entrees, vegetables, desserts and salads all in an open selection format similar to the Commerce Cafe in the Center for Commerce.  This usually overlooked place offers amenities few other Gump eateries can match.  If, for example, you find your tasty grilled Tilapia wedged in your throat, highly-trained medical professionals are just a few steps away. In fact, a lot of the clientele today appeared to be rich doctors and beautiful nurses so you know the food must be outstanding. Although one normally needs someone to arrange formal admission .  It it is not an exclusive eatery like The Club.  Thankfully there is rarely a need for reservations at lunch. It is also extremely convenient for me when I visit my dear Mum who is recuperating from a broken leg in the nearby clinic.

Today I took a walk on the wilder side and selected the grilled Tilapia, corn and green beans. My butler fetched me a square of cornbread in honor of the Carp. For some unknown reason, I was granted discounts on every item which totaled $1.17 lowering the total charge, with tax and orange juice, to $7.29. Quite a bargain, I must say.  I only had to tender four shares of Synovus Stock and received change!

Some drawbacks: parking is usually difficult and the nearby ER traffic boarders on the seedy side, especially on New Year's Eve.  It is rather sad to see the parade of inebriated and foolish injured passing through the double doors a stone's throw away. Will our less fortunate brethren ever stop firing weapons in the air to celebrate the New Year?

Wait a second.  Just a moment please.  As I write this from my mother's accommodations the nurse has just brought in a tray of food and on the plate was a grilled Tilapia which looked suspiciously like my entree for lunch.  I took a bite and sure enough it WAS the same flavor.  I have now been informed that I have just written a review of hospital food.  Oh my.  Does this hurt my credibility??

The best fried catfish "B" has ever had.  Sorry, no corn bread.

Cheerio anyway and have a very Happy New Year!!

Lagniappe at Lunde's

Fat Clemenza walked me down to Lunde's today so we could console ourselves with some comfort food. The Gang had favorably rated Lunde's previously (see Oct. 11, 2009 and Sept. 10, 2009 reviews) so we found the little place on the first floor corner of the Historic Bell Building and went in around noon. (The place is open 11a-2p for lunch) There were not many there when we arrived but business picked up as we lunched in this quaint place with a lot of homey touches from the Big Easy.

Since the place has been so well reviewed, I will not repeat what has been stated. However, I just have to let everyone know about the "Blackened Pork Loin" available on the Meat and Three Menu. (Here is where Carpasaurus i.e. "The Cornbread Carp" may become interested). When the meat and three arrived I was surprised to see that there was a  square of fluffy, cakey, twinkie-like tasty CORNBREAD the size of a Buick next to the porkus loinus! See below:

Photo by Darla, special to LITG, used with permission. Not actual size.

One funny event: Fat Clemenza asked if one of the vegetable choices--macaroni and cheese--was 'home made.' The smart ass in me would have normally quipped: "Mac and Cheese is about as man-made as a 'vegetable' can ever get." I held my tounge and the waitress politely responded that the M & C was homemade. This caused me to wonder: Are any vegetgables really "home made?" Cake can be "home" made, pie can be "home" made but vegetables?  My green beans and corn were certainly good but I wouldn't think they were "home made." Doesn't the Big Guy Upstairs get some of the credit for "making" them?  Nevertheless, the main point here is that the veggies were tasty and fresh, but the surprise cornbread square was lagniappe! The "other white meat" loin was just perfectly prepared and a generous portion. (Did they know we were professional restaurant reviewers?) Best of all, the price ($7.50 with tea) allowed me to pick up the tab for Fat-C and tip generously all for a "Jackson." Now that's value in the Gump. So try Lunde's, it's now officially Shadow Pup tested, Shadow Pup approved.

Microgump: Lunch at The Club

Although I gather that most of the members of this nouveau-literary venture are probably not currently members of "The Club" or are former members currently on "sabbatical" for a variety of tawdry reasons, that should not exclude a review of the fare at fine gentlemen's clubs within the inner circle of Montgomery proper, what some of you refer to as "The Gump." Therefore, I have taken it upon myself, Chesterfield Northfield Allpots (my friends call me "Chase"), to report upon a gentlemen's lunch at "The Club." Like my friend and visiting Irish MP, Bustafer Jones, Esquire, we have enjoyed the witty banter found in some of these web postings, or "blogs" as you say, but we fear those not fortunate to be from this area will gain the wrong impression that lunch in Montgomery is only about, and I shudder to say it, "meat and three" pubs with the "meat" usually being Southern fried chicken. So forgive us in advance in recounting today's (Friday 4 December) lunch at The Club.

After Bustafer and I motored past the iron gates and guard house along the tree-lined entrance to the circular drive and portico we were are greeted by our tuxedoed doorman who bowed as he bade us entrance into the grand foyer of "The Club." Seated at the long "Captain's Table," were indeed the captains of local law firms, medical practices and mercantile businesses discussing the stock market, politics and their beloved Alabama football. [Some were prattling on about some upcoming match with some amphibians from Florida as I recall] Of course, there were no discussions of "business" as such crass conversation is as strictly prohibited as are those awful mobiles and Blackberry devices "businessmen" find essential these days. (Derisively described as "Crackberries" by the younger members). As we chatted I noticed the beautiful view outside of a perfectly manicured 18th hole still green from the freshly planted winter rye. Perfectly lovely to see (and to drink I might add).

In the "Gentlemen's Grille" the fare was simple and elegant like many of the members. A pot of steaming seafood gumbo with bowls of rice and fresh cornbread muffins at the side quickly allowed the sharp set BJ some relief. Of course, the staff--knowing all--had already placed my favorite adult beverage at an open space recognizing who at the table I would not care to share my lunch with because of slights and offenses occurring to and taken by past generations. ("Why that boy is not trustworthy. You know his grandfather shot at a low bird at a dove shoot at the Home Place back in '53) These are long-time staffers so wise that every statement, no matter how inane, vapid or cliche, elicits the retort: "I heard that." (BJ remarked--and I certainly agree--that the Zen of such a remark is profound). Such attentiveness--before the food even was partaken--sets a tone that is unmatched at public eateries anywhere. And while you eat the staff will even be so kind as to carry the fine Irish whiskey (Midleton of course) you have purchased for your upcoming Christmas party to your vehicle.

BJ and I chose to stay with only the gumbo and a salad from the salad bar. We are not ones prone to gluttony. But, if a full buffet is desired, a short walk into the "Gold Room" reveals tables brimming with salad fixings, vegetables and meat selections. A carving station for beef brisket and a tureen of chicken noodle soup provides a "finish line" for those making it down the entire length of the table. On one wall is a selection of desserts, brownies, tarts and cakes all fresh from the nearby kitchen. And all of this, with tea, for a paltry 10 USD with no tipping allowed. Why, that's only 5 shares of local bank stock. At our house we have taken to using such certificates to start fires in the hearth.

Rubbing elbows and bantering with gentlemen as they dine has a way of calming the nerves and bracing one for spending the rest of the day clipping coupons or playing a round of golf in December while your friends in the north freeze. All said, a fine way to lunch when you want to get away from the rabble. The food at The Club is always good and reasonably priced. The service outstanding. Occasionally, the conversation is even interesting. When it is not, CNBC or ESPN are always available distractions on the wall-mounted flat screen HDTV Tellys. Bustafer and I rated lunch at The Club this Friday very high. Four of five golden cufflinks. Bustafer said it reminded him of his club on St. James' Street in Dublin--minus all the bad dental work.

Some of you are probably thinking that it is not fair to rate a place so few may enjoy. At one time that may have been the case. However, I understand that today, our local clubs are experiencing membership problems due to the economic situation and whatnot such that membership "deals" abound and initiation fees are the lowest in years. Most clubs also have open membership. But if one can find a minority member to overcome the popular "stigma" associated with private clubs in the South you should invite them to consider joining. So I say "cherrio" and "carry on" to our local clubs and I say to you, there is no time to join like the present. Mixing with the crowd may ground us and make us feel like one of them, but an occasional lunch in the lap of luxury among "members" with staff you consider to be friends feels like home to me every now and then.

---Chase N. Allpots with the kind assistance of B. Jones, MP, Esq.

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.

Microgump: Making a List and Checking it Twice at Isaiah's

[Ed. Note: We welcome the "Carp" to our fold with his first submission]

Although technically not a "Lunch in the Gump" target (since it is not open on Mondays), Isaiah's at 135 Mildred Street meets every other criteria as a locally-owned lunch spot that serves "comfort" food mostly to those in Gump Central. However, I will say that if you Google the place you will see numerous favorable reviews from travelers from all over the country such as this annoymous lady from the Land of Fruits and Nuts shown here with Isaiah himself.

She raved about the lemon crusted carp err catfish. She even took a picture of it:
Looks yummy.

(the fried corn is at the top and the poor little corn muffin to the left)



On Friday a quorum of LITG reviewers gathered for a microgump at Isaiah's at the suggestion of Mimi Furst. Present were: Tojo, Reginald, Docartie, Mimi, Shadow Pup, Pikedaddy and yours truly. After raising our 1/2 and 1/2 tea/lemonades to the memory of poor burked Binion, we reviewed our menu/check-lists and made our lists and checked them twice. Pens were thoughtfully provided. Cool thing about filling in your own order with the prices listed for each entry is that you cannot whine about it when you take your own list to the register to pay. (Of course, that would not stop the Shadow Pup from denying her own paw prints).

My only gripe was, of course, about the cornbread. The check-list menu clearly stated that my lemon baked chicken would come with one side and my requisite corn muffin. When the order arrived, dressing and gravy had been substituted. Granted, it was very good dressing and gravy but the omission of the muffin forced me to beg a muffin off the dentist who had just had his own teeth cleaned. By the time the begging had been sucessfully accomplished, the muffin was cold and lifeless and no butter was nearby. Thankfully, the chicken and gravy was fresh and good. Not so much the "fried corn."

I will add other comments from our staff of reviewers as they trickle in below. Suffice it to say that with a total charge of $9.13 with tax (or 5 shares of Synovus stock), its proximity to Gump Central, its friendly staff, and ONE HUNDRED HEALTH RATING, Isaiah's is a place worthy of being a regular on your lunch rotation.

Happy Thanksgiving to all our LITG followers!

Mimi: My comments are these:The lima beans are my favorite—they have a subtle lima and pork gravy that holds them all together and sticks them to the ribs, and in my case, probably the hips too. Collards are just right. I have had the sweet potato pie, and it is a slice of love. In the summer, the cream cheese pound cake with fresh strawberries is not to be missed. Enjoyed the talk of the shady developers busted projects, the booming downtown of trial lawyers and pub crawls. Swapping tips on the best way to avoid the new camera red light tickets and DUI’s (other than not running the light or driving sober of course). The Old Ship AME Church light-up sign across the street says “Faith is fragile—Handle with Prayer.” Love a place you can get lemonade and sweet tea mixed (an Arnold Palmer). Don’t forget the secret rooms and 100% health rating. [I didn't]

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.