2125 N. Decatur Road, Decatur, 404-634-6294
“I hate to see ’em leave,” said the 70-something fellow across the booth from mine.
“I do, too,” replied the similarly aged white-haired gent in the booth next to me.
“You eat here just about every day. Where you gonna go now?” said the first.
“I don’t know,” came the reply. Then he turn back around to his lunch plate.
Evans Fine Foods is closing. That's making a lot of people sad, especially the retirees who are daily fixtures at this Decatur diner. They come for breakfast, lunch or dinner – and sometimes all three meals. They are customers whom the staff know by name ("Hello, Mr. Tom, how are ya?"). They are customers who know one another by name.
It’s like an episode of “Cheers” but with aqua blue vinyl booths replacing bar stools and a cup of coffee or sweet tea standing in for a pint of beer. It’s good people just trying to make their way in the world today. That takes everything they’ve got. And right now, it is Evans that doesn’t got it.
Evans, open since 1946, is closing sometime in November (The final date is to be determined.). It is time to renew the lease, but the rent has gone up and owners Pete and Mike Kontoes aren’t ready to dish up more money.
Similar to Evans fans who have commented on Facebook since hearing news that Evans was shuttering, I had to go to the no-frills diner before it closed. Prior to heading to the grey concrete structure at the corner of Clairmont and Decatur Roads, I called up a few food lovers in town to ask about Evans, the institution. Oh, yes. It is an institution, they said. But then admitted to not having eaten there in years – or ever. How is something an institution if you never frequent it?
When it comes to food at Evans, the old-school diner menu takes you back in time to the Hamburger Treat of a patty with cottage cheese, sliced tomato and hard-boiled egg. Who eats that now? Apparently, those 65 years and older because that’s who filled the seats at Evans the day I ate there – along with a girl about eight years of age accompanied by an elderly couple (Did her grandparents pull her out of school on a Thursday to give her a dose of Evans before it was too late?).
That’s the thing about dining institutions. We wail at the announcement that doors will shutter. We make a point of getting in the door one last time. We take a few photos for memory’s sake and reminisce about the good old days.
But when one of these places goes away, we should ask why. Well, why does any restaurant close? Money is usually the driver. And if there isn’t traffic, there’s no driving through anything.
Granted, Evans traffic seemed brisk the day I came, but I don’t know if it’s always like that. I watched a guy in his 30s take a photo of an elderly man (perhaps his dad?) with Evans signage in the distance. I think quite a few people are there right now eating up before it all ends.
The thing is, the eating isn’t so good. The sausage biscuit was OK, but sides like collards, green beans and carrots tasted tinny. Anything with cheese tasted, well, odd – from the mac-n-cheese to the chicken cheesesteak sandwich. And the fish was so salty, fishy and unappealing I boxed it up to give to hungry, lesser well-fed AJC journalists who don’t analyze food for a living.
The service at Evans, however, is standout. I had a glass of water in front of me in seconds. And that sausage biscuit was in my mouth less than five minutes after I ordered it. It was all thanks to my server, Martha Gibson, who alerted me that if I wanted anything from the breakfast menu, I ought to order it since breakfast ends at 11:30 a.m. on weekdays.
Gibson has worked at Evans for 41 years and two months. She could be a top server at any restaurant in town because she exudes hospitality. Hers is not an “Is there a tip in this?” mentality. She simply looked after me during my hour-long lunch as if I were her own daughter (I did not reveal my name nor affiliation with the AJC to her.). And we all yearn for someone to just take care of us.
So, what Evans lacked in good cooking, it makes up for in heart and soul. Evans is a place where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came. Wouldn’t you like to get away to a place like that? That is why Evans is special and why Evans will be missed.
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