Edna’s
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On a recent visit to Edna’s I watched a middle- aged woman in a smart blue suit walk in carrying a cane. A waitress greeted her by name and asked if she’d have the usual. Apparently, every Saturday afternoon for the last 25 years Miz Bluesuit has eaten a plateful of stewed pork neck bones, a saucerful of dressing, a tall, cold glass of sweet tea, and a stack of corn cakes. It’s easy to see why. Fried chicken at Edna’s is cooked to order, juicy, crunchy, salty, and fresh, the kind of bird I dream about. Side dishes are a greatest hits of southern lovin’: fresh-baked short biscuits, pickled beets, mac ‘n’ cheese, collard greens with optional onion and tomato on top. When Edna dropped by my table to say hello, I told her that I’d been here for a 6 AM breakfast with a crowd of white people a few years ago. “I remember you all,” she crowed. “Welcome back!” She vanished into the kitchen, and one by one, unbeckoned, more side dishes came out–we sampled nine out of the ten on the menu that afternoon. The pork-neck lady looked over as I picked at my sweet potatoes: “You stuffed? Edna, she stuffs you, that’s how she gets you,” she said. “Now you’re hooked, just like me.” –Seth Zurer
