In a near synchrony that captures what it means to cover Southern food right now, federal funding for the nation’s largest anti-hunger program lapsed this week, two days before Michelin announced which restaurants would appear in its American South guide.
To put it even more bluntly, the French company on November 3 bestowed two stars on Emeril’s, where the premium wine pairing for one person is priced at $800. According to an analysis by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, the food stamp cuts mean more than 5 million households will receive $12 to buy their meals for a month.
That sort of disparity is almost incomprehensible: Allowing people to starve in a country this wealthy is ruthlessly cruel.
Obviously, there is no editorial quandary that’s even on the same spectrum as figuring out how to feed your child. But the situation poses a journalistic dilemma for a publication like ours. While The Food Section’s correspondents have reported consistently on grassroots efforts to combat hunger insecurity, we have neither the size nor scope to duplicate—let alone improve upon—the good work of media organizations such as National Public Radio. So, with that in mind, is it defensible to proceed as though the region isn’t in crisis?
Since I’m neither a philosopher nor a cleric, I can’t say with any certainty. But my guide in this realm is the Maggid of Kosnitz, everyone’s favorite eighteenth-century Polish rabbi (besides Yaakov Yitzchak of Lublin, of course.) As the famous story goes, a rich man proudly told the Maggid that he subsisted on salted bread and water.
“Fool!” the rabbi responded, commanding him to eat meat and drink good wine. “If a man subsists on dry bread and salt, he might think that poor people could live on stones.”
In other words, appreciating food is part of what motivates us to make sure the joys associated with it aren’t restricted to the well-to-do. We trust that you’ll continue to monitor what’s happening with SNAP, and we’ll keep writing about whiskey and wood-fired oysters and—when the November air turns brisk—warming bowls of noodle soup.
Below, you’ll find a few standouts from a daylong Buford Highway slurp built around an itinerary provided by food journalist Candy Hom, whose Instagram handle is @soupbelly_atl. And should you want to spread the soup around, remember each $1 you contribute to the Atlanta Community Food Bank buys three meals.
Bún Riêu
Lee’s Bakery, 4005 Buford Hwy NE Suite C, Atlanta
I’ve long threatened to write a story that involves going to restaurants with signature items and ordering the wrong thing, such as chicken nuggets at The Varsity. The bún riêu at this 20-year-old institution doesn’t exactly qualify, but Lee’s first received national press for its banh mi. (When the roundup appeared in the New York Times in 2011, OC Weekly’s Gustavo Arellano called it “laughable and typical of the empty swagger that Times reporters exhibit at their worst,” noting the total absence of southern California.)
Gustavo does pugnaciousness better than I do, so I’ll only add that the correspondent should have ordered soup too. The tangy tomato broth, crowded with bobbing cubes of tofu and crab meatballs, registers as both soft and savory.
Roast duck wonton noodle soup
Best BBQ, 5000 Buford Highway NE, Chamblee
Another local favorite—albeit one listed in the Michelin guide, as of this week—Best BBQ is a dim sum destination renowned for Cantonese-style roast meats. Patrons who don’t want to fuss with spoons can have roast duck over rice, congee, or noodles, but trawling a bowl of broth for taut wontons and bits of rich duck meat is a wonderfully satisfying treasure hunt on an autumnal afternoon.
There’s nothing inventive about this soup, which is bound to taste familiar regardless of your cultural background. It’s soothing, resonant, and restorative in the way of the finest soups in the world’s soup canon.
Potato noodle soup
Crazy Skewers, 6035 Peachtree Rd A118, Doraville
As its name suggests, this tiny restaurant prizes the offbeat and unexpected. (It’s also the only place I’ve patronized that has a standard BOGO deal on beer.) Also inherent in the name is an emphasis on dry rubbed and charcoal grilled meats of all kinds.
Still, the potato noodle soup is a don’t-skip. Earlier this week, food researcher Mike Kostyo posted about the “backward wings” served at Chicago’s Trends & Tasting event, meaning the chicken is mild, but the accompanying ranch is powerfully hot. The compelling thick-noodled bowl at Crazy Skewers delivers a similar sensation, with numbing heat concealed in various crannies. Even soup can get crazy sometimes.
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