Son’s Place Restaurant

Sadly, this place is now out of business.
Another victim of the economy.
Let’s hope they reopen next year!

was in town for work, and watched President Obama’s Innagural Speech with the kitchen staff at the restaurant. Very good home cooking – had some excellent Bar B Que chicken with greens – way too salty, but good–
I finally figured out (hey, i am from Chicago) that you ask for unsweet tea, and mix in about 18% sweet tea to get the right blend.
Many other items looked quite tasty
–i am not a big fan of the food served right on the plastic tray, ala’ prison style, but hey – no plastic or paper to haul to the landfill.
Nice meal, with beverage and tax and tip, under $ 10

Cafeteria-​style meat-​n-​three kinda joint. The hoe cake was good but very greasy. Fish was salty. The fried chicken was great as was the mac-​n-​cheese.
The service was very friendly — they ring a bell and cheer for you if you’re a first-​timer. Cash only — bummer. It’s kinda pricey for what you get… meat +2 ran me about $ 8.
Carvers still beats Son’s Place.

Quite some years ago, son of Son’s place inherited his daddy’s cast iron pan used at the restaurant that previously occupied Shaun’s space. He set up shop in an old house a stone’s throw away to carry on his old man’s legacy. Son’s place is everything I conjured up about the South before moving here. The room is populated with old wooden tables covered in bright yellow checkered vinyl table clothes. A steam table in the back sends out aromas that announce the daily specials of fried chicken, bbq ribs, fried catfish, and many varieties of lard-​infused vegetables. Every new face is immediately welcomed by the friendly servers behind the steam table, eager to load up another compartmentalize tray.
I was in the mood for ribs and then thought I’d balance out the meal with two different types of greens (photo may be found at
). Also on my tray was the warm and fluffy roll that is so great yet so seldomly found in contemporary restaurants. It seemed that most of my colleagues also had the same idea and mostly ended up with different cuts of ribs. As you can see, mine was one of the end pieces, so while I got some good charred bits, I also had to chew a bit harder. No matter though, the sauce was plenty tasty to keep me gnawing away. The greens were excellent the way fat-​infused vegetables tend to be. The nice vinegary acidity provided a bright counterpoint to the sweetness in the rib’s bbq sauce.

Wanting to dip your tastebuds in something as deep and warm as that Georgia weather? This is the place.
Perfect to acclimate the senses from traveling abroad. Where the food is so… clean.
Get the fried chicken. Get whatever you want, it’s all good.
Sweet tea, yes. Let your senses be your guide. And the bell for the newbies is classic.

«Wow. Even the burps taste good.»
Such was my friend’s assessment of the meal we’d finished inhaling a few moments ago.
Not only do I agree with her glowing gastrointestinal review, I feel especially accomplished because this comment is coming from the one friend I have that is the absolute hardest to please in the culinary department. Everybody has that friend. Hell, some of you ARE that friend. You know the one, doesn’t eat much more than chicken (sans bones) a few vegetables (usually corn, and usually canned) and turns their nose up at the mere suggestion that they ‘try something new’. And for her, new can be as simple as watermelon (which she claims she doesn’t like).
On this particular visit, I was determined to find a spot that we both could enjoy. Another friend of mine had recommended the down-​home soul food of Son’s Place to me on several occasions, and since I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like Southern soul food, I figured Son’s and I both stood a fighting chance against my friend’s food phobias.
As soon as we hit the door, everyone behind the counter belted out a warm greeting; and not in that cheesy, half-​assed ‘Welcome to Moe’s’ way. It actually felt like they were glad to see us, you know, like in a ‘Hey, NORM!’ kinda way. Feeling good just to be in the place, we quickly claimed one of the tables draped in a cheery yellow and white checkered tablecloth.
The service at Son’s is chow-​line style. You grab a tray, sidle up to the food counter and point to what you’d like. The menu features a different selection of meats and sides for each day of the week, as well as a choice of biscuit, cornbread, or hoe cake (a sure mark of Southern authenticity). The food is served on pale green, industrial strength plastic trays that will instantly remind you of your elementary school cafeteria. Ditto for the surprisingly small portions. The bill? Not so much. For my tray of fried whiting, mac and cheese and collards, I paid just over $ 10. Not horrible, but a bit more than I’ve come to expect at a mom-​and-​pop soul food joint. But you know what they say, you get what you pay for. And what I got was well worth it. The fish was fresh-​tasting and coated with a crispy, pleasantly gritty, and perfectly seasoned cornmeal breading. The greens weren’t overly salty nor did they have the too oily /​heavy taste that I’ve too often experienced when they’re cooked with meat. The mac-​and-​cheese was gruntingly great. Sharp cheddar taste, with just the right blend of milk, butter, and egg to give it a creamy, melt-​in-​your mouth consistency. Even my grandmother’s mac-​and-​cheese would have self-​worth issues if it was placed next to Son’s.
After gleefully shoveling a few forkfuls into my mouth, I realized something. I hadn’t yet heard a peep out of my friend. Cautiously, slowly, I lifted my eyes and ventured a look at her side of the table, praying I wouldn’t see her scowling at her plate like I had so many times before. What I saw was her face stuffed full of food, looking happy as a pig in… well, u know.
For the rest of the meal I heard nothing but approving sounds from her, and get this… she even cleaned the bones on the chicken! Thanks to the reasonably sized portions, we both had some room left over for dessert. Mr. Lenn — the heart and soul of Son’s place — chatted us up at the cash register as one of the aunties behind the counter lopped off huge slices of cake for us. My friend went for the pound cake, I opted for the German chocolate. The pound cake, though tasty, was a mite on the dry side — not all that surprising considering that we got one of the last slices. The German chocolate was absolutely heavenly. Super moist, light and fluffy layers, covered with that characteristically rich coconut-​pecan frosting.
We were both so engaged in our desserts, that neither of us even noticed Mr. Lenn turning to clang on a big copper bell behind the register.“Can I have your attention everywuuuuun!!? We’ve got two first-​timers here todaaaay! Everybody welcome Edwina and Kisha from Macon!” After which, the other diners clapped and yelled like we were long lost relatives of theirs.
A few moments later, we both left smiling with our bellies full. With the sound of Mr. Lenn’s bell still ringing in my ears, I felt like a champ who’d finally emerged victorious in a long-​fought battle. Oh, and to top it all off I even got my friend to try some watermelon later on that day. The verdict? She loved it.
Final Score — Foodies: 2 Finicky eaters: 0.
cheers,
k

Last Fall, the girlfriend and I decided to play tourist (or as I tend to call tourists «tourons») one day. We played hooky from work and rode MARTA around to the Aquarium and the Coke Museum. We wandered around downtown and asked people for directions to places we knew how to get to, but we wanted to see how accurate the directions would be. We took pictures of ourselves and told people we were from Chicago, even though the girlfriend has a heavy, heavy Southern accent.
This was the day we disembarked from the Inman Park MARTA station and tried Son’s Place. Despite living in Atlanta for several years, I never had a chance to eat here. The lunch only hours are not conducive to my OTP office. So I went ahead and put this place on the agenda for lunch. Coincidently, the Food Network had a segment on Son’s Place’s fried chicken literally that morning, which clinched the fact I was going to have fried chicken.
The restaurant is a classic meat-​n-​three. You queue up in line cafeteria-​style, point and pick out your meal. My vegetables were very good. Keep in mind, this is the kind of place where fried okra and broccoli and cheese casserole counts as a «vegetable.» My fried chicken was tasty. Nice crisp skin and juicy meat. I really liked my hoecake, a phrase met with consternation outside of the south.
The only criticism I had was that my chicken pieces were on the small side. I mentioned this in passing to the girlfriend who told me to mention something to the owner. «Nah, I’ll live,» I replied. However, the nice tourist couple behind us (who I have a feeling watched the same Food Network Special that morning) did mention the chicken size to the owner. He IMMEDIATELY replaced their chicken with giant steroid birds and went on to pull the man handing out the pieces into the back to berate him on quality control. (No lie, since I heard him yelling, «We don’t serve that junk in here!») Alas, I’d already consumed my chicken and felt out-​of-​bounds asking for a replacement.
And yes, we did fall into the «First time there» trap. Ring, ring, ring, and applause. Take your bows. It’s dinner (or lunch at least) and a show. Unfortunately for you shy ones, YOU’RE the show.

If you look a little lost while standing in line trying to decide what to order at this cafeteria style «meat and three,» the cashier might ask you if it’s your first time visiting the restaurant. It will seem like an innocent enough question and you’ll answer truthfully before finding a seat.
Five, 10, maybe 15 minutes later, you’ll be chowing down on collard greens, black eyed peas and fried chicken when you’ll hear a loud dinner bell. The cashier will ask everyone to stop eating and give you a loud round of applause, because it is your first time at Son’s Place. And they’ll do it. And you’ll blush. But don’t worry, it’s all part of the Son’s Place experience.
Son’s has been around forever and has become a favorite of locals who are determined to save the city’s more traditional establishments from a flood of Tapas and Asian fusion. Mayor Shirley Franklin is a Son’s Place fan.
The food at Son’s Place will clog your arteries in record time. Even the vegetables. And the sweet tea will rot your teeth before the end of the meal. But it’s all part of the experience.

A true «meat and three», it gets three stars for its charm and friendly service. The food however is a little too basic for me, and is sort of right out of a box. The fried chicken is good though.

Son’s Place has won, flat out, the BEST fried chicken in Atlanta. Chow down on that plus some awesome mac n’ cheese, collards, hoe cakes, and more. If you’re in the mood, the pork chops are also divine!