Also, did you know that July 9th marks the 69th wedding anniversary of Ray and Maxine Wilson? Next year, at the reunion, it'll be their 70th. So, that's another milestone to celebrate.
I went to Atlanta last week for an educational technology conference. The last time I was in Atlanta was 1984. Doug Wilson, my uncle, invited us to come on a road trip with his family. We looped from Chandler, AZ to New York, Washington D.C., through the southern states, and stopped at the World's Fair in New Orleans before going home. All I remember about Atlanta was the skyline, a Motel Six where we stayed (my first time seeing bulletproof windows in a motel office), and a really good pancake house where we ate dinner.
And, on that note, it's time for the Wilson Food Report.
This time, I decided to get a taste of the deep south by seeking out a good southern-style restaurant. I didn't have to go far. Right across the street from the Westin was a place called "Pittypat's". It was decorated with memorabilia, most of it authentic, from "Gone With the Wind" and other southern knickknacks and relics.
"Pittypat's" bills itself as being the home of the Southern dining experience. I was inclined to agree. The food is homestyle in appearance and presentation and very tasty. Anytime fried chicken is referred to on the menu, it's called "the best damn fried chicken". Adding to the Reconstruction era ambiance, the waiters are brusque, but not quite rude. The conversations are loud, the tables are rickety, and close together, and there are stuffed game trophy heads on almost every wall.. There's even a short, gray-haired lady playing an out-of-tune honky-tonk piano. I think she had memorized just about every Reader's Digest "Book of Best Loved Songs" tune because I can follow along note for note on dozens of them from when I played them as a child for Grandma (Maxine) Wilson.
I had the Plantation Platter, which came on a huge plate in an obscene portion consisting of "the best damn fried chicken", a half rack of baby back ribs, homestyle mashed potatoes and southern gravy with black-eyed peas and collard greens on the side.
I could only eat half of it because my real object in coming was to try some authentic Atlantan peach cobbler. I was not disappointed. Even though the bowl was smaller than I expected it to be in comparison to the hefty meal that had just been served to me, it was every bit as advertised and included a generous dollop of cinnamon-vanilla ice cream on top.
I didn't eat a very big breakfast the next morning.
Want to post your own Wilson Food Reports to our blog? Let me know and I'll set you up as an author.