Restaurant regulars can become fixtures

David Dean, 53, of Tucker, knows the concept well. He’s been in the restaurant business for 30 years, as a manager for 10 and a waiter for 20. Dean prefers waiting tables and does so at LongHorn Steakhouse in Tucker where he refers to himself as a “dining consultant.” The job description includes engaging with customers by sometimes sitting down with them, tossing around one liners and making a personal connection.

And it works. The customers keep coming back, and Dean’s section remains in fairly high demand.

“I make my living by making friends out of my regulars,” Dean says.

Ironically, Dean’s a regular himself. Between two and five times a week he’s grabbing a meal at Matthews Cafeteria in Tucker, a homespun spot that’s been serving Southern comforts for more than half a century.

Dean has the menu memorized and keeps tabs on which days his favorites make the grade. In his opinion, the beef brisket is some of the best in town, so he tries to grab a helping when it appears every other Tuesday.

But a stuffed tummy isn’t his only reward. The servers beam at him from behind the counter, other regulars rub elbows with him in line, and owner Charles Green is always quick with a conversation, a quick hello or a pat on the back. It makes Dean feel like he’s part of the Matthews clan. He belongs.

And cooking big meals at home makes no sense to him. He cites a recent meal at Matthews when he noshed on corned beef, lima beans and squash for less than $7.

“To make that meal at home, I’d have go shopping, buy the food, prepare it, cook it and wind up with some leftovers I’d never eat,” he says. “In less than that same amount of time, I can go to Matthews, get some food and eat it.

“It’s the closest thing to home cooking that this bachelor is going to find. It’s not grandmama’s, but it’s good enough.”

Eva Rosewall and Jody McFerren, co-owners of Our Way Cafe in Decatur, have been known to foster family-like relationships with their regulars. Beginning in 1992 when the restaurant opened, J.B. Franklin would feast on Our Way Cafe as much as twice a day. He became a fixture, and Rosewall and McFerren saw him with the regularity of a close friend or relative. If he couldn’t make it in, a restaurant staff member would deliver the food to his house.

Franklin died in September at the age of 84. According to his daughter, Beth Newton, his last meal was probably from Our Way Cafe.

“He originally went there for the food,” says daughter Beth Newton. “He was a meat-and-veggies kind of guy. But over the years, it became more than that. He was from the old-school generation and preferred to interact with people in person. He loved visiting with other regulars, and he knew everyone who worked there. It was like an extended family.”

Newton and her brother, Michael Franklin, are giving the restaurant a picture of their father that will soon hang on one of Our Way Cafe’s walls.

A photo of Walter Chadwick, another Our Way regular, already hangs in a corner. The action shot captures Chadwick in mid-air, clutching a football and diving over a pack of defenders.

Chadwick, who was born and raised in Decatur, was a football star at Decatur High School and went on to become a high-profile tailback at the University of Tennessee from 1965 through 1967. He made the school record books, and helped Tennessee snag both the SEC and national championships in 1967.

In 1971, while driving his Volkswagen Beetle, Chadwick was struck head-on by a Wells Fargo truck. The brain damage was severe and beyond repair.

But after years of rehabilitation and trudging ahead, Chadwick enjoys life, which includes his weekly meal at Our Way Cafe on Wednesdays. Fellow Tennessee alumni, Ellen Morrison of Roswell, joins Chadwick for every meal. And so does a rotating roster of Tennessee fans, all of whom dive into the restaurant’s specialty belly warmers like meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. They gather around Chadwick, who’s still wearing his national championship ring.

Morrison, who “loves Walter like a brother,” says Our Way Cafe is her and Chadwick’s home base because of “the hospitality, warmth and love that’s there. You just feel embraced.”

Chadwick, shrouded in an orange and white Tennessee hat, smiles before taking a bite of stuffed bell pepper.

“It’s the good food,” he says with a grin.

Like Franklin, Chadwick’s relationship with Our Way Cafe goes beyond the knife and fork. Last June, Rosewall donated food for a party at Chadwick’s home with more than 40 Tennessee Volunteers in attendance.

Thoughtful touches obviously reinforce a restaurant regular’s dedication. That’s another reason Jackson and Burrell remain dedicated to the Colonnade.

Crumpled napkins, shallow water glasses and plates dotted with crumbs tell the tale. Jackson and Burrell’s meal is done. They’re full and happy after being served by one of their favorite waiters, Mark Mailloux, a Colonnade vet for 15 years.

“He knows our likes and dislikes,” Burrell says. “He knows to bring Billy a glass of water with no ice. I love small oysters. If they’re the right size, he’ll let me know.”

Before leaving the table, the couple is already planning their next visit to the Colonnade for the following day.

With customers like these, the Colonnade’s going to need a new shirt.