Ode to the Silver Grill

This is a piece I wrote on an Atlanta Insitution and one of my old favorites:

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Country Fried Steak at The Silver Grill

Atlanta is full of contradictions. To start with, it’s a large cosmopolitan southern town. Cosmopolitan and Southern are words most people just don’t usually put together. Yet the great strength of the city is that it not only attracts people from around the country, but it’s in particular a regional hub for the best, brightest and most ambitious of the South’s sons and daughters. I myself came here over twenty-five years ago looking for opportunity and community and now consider it home, and wouldn’t consider living anywhere else.

It’s been said Atlanta often favors the latest and greatest, the newest and shiniest over its history and more homespun institutions. Even on a personal level we often try to distance ourselves from our small town roots and lose the thick southern accents.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this Atlanta’s “Southerness” lately, mainly because I’ve been visiting the Silver Grill on Monroe drive. I’m trying to get in all the fried chicken and country fried steak I can before they soon close their doors. They’re soon to be the latest in a long line of Atlanta institutions to make way for redevelopment.

I find myself really torn on this, I’m all for the cities redevelopment and renewal. I’m excited about all the new condo towers in downtown and midtown, the expanded museum, the new aquarium. I realize that it’s good for the city I love so much. However, I do miss some of the little things that are getting lost. I miss not only the historic buildings like the Pershing Point Hotel and most recently 615 Peachtree, but even the little things, the institutions like the Silver Grill.

In a city that aspires to build the “Midtown Mile” a long overdue retail district in midtown, I sometimes feel words like upscale, high-end, and “the next Rodeo Drive” get tossed around a bit too much. I’m reminded that if we aspire to build the next ____ (fill in the blank) then it will never be more than an imitation, a cheap copy of whatever we’re trying to emulate. True institutions are built as unique entities with their own personalities and charm.

That brings me back to The Silver Grill. The restaurant was built decades ago so that country folks coming to work construction in the big city could find a little piece of home, a nice plate of comfort food, a meat and two veggies, and a good cobbler. Over the decades, it’s been pretty much the same story. The workers changed a bit, construction workers and day laborers giving way to office workers, and lawyers and now even web designers. It’s always been for the same reason though, to get a little piece of home in the big city. To eat in the Silver Grill is to feel a little bit closer to home for a while, to feel a little more comfortable with ones southern roots. To have Peggy give you a big smile and “hey hon” is like getting a big hug from a favorite aunt.

Not that I really have a solution. It’s a problem that some people can’t even get their heads around, but it’s just something we need to keep in mind. With growth comes choices, but progress isn’t always measured by biggest and newest, much like our lives aren’t always measured in the size of our paychecks and having a corner office.

If I had a few million bucks lying around, I’d buy the property to save it. The sad thing is there will more than likely be a chain restaurant there in the end, but it will probably serve burritos or sushi. If I had my way I’d make sure everybody got a nice vacation and have them come back to a nice new (but not too shiny) Silver Grill on the corner of a new condo building.

But all I can do for now is call up friends I haven’t talked to in a while, and meet them for dinner and enjoy the country fried steak and the company. We sit around in the booths and catch up, maybe talk about family and where we grew up and whatever happed to so-and-so. We find that we talk a bit slower and relax after a long busy day, and though we all try to watch our weights there’s always room for cobbler.