by Frank Sabatini Jr.
ACME Southern Kitchen
901 E St. (East Village)
619-515-2225
Prices: entrees, $11 to $16; side dishes, $5 and $6
Restaurant marketers have over-killed the term “comfort food” about as much as deposed Food Network cook Paula Deen crams “ya’ll” into her vernacular. But finally, a menu of sincere cuisine from below the Mason-Dixon Line has arrived to urban San Diego via the new ACME Southern Kitchen in the East Village.
Old Junior League cookbooks from The South guided restaurateur Terryl Gavre into creating a menu that resurrects things like deviled eggs, chipped bologna sandwiches, angel-biscuit potpies and of course, fried chicken.
The buns, biscuits and piecrusts that support the meals are baked fresh a few doors away in a space Gavre secured before opening the restaurant.
ACME brings a much-needed boon to this otherwise forsaken block of E Street (between Ninth and 10th streets), which derives its edginess from a used record store and the divey Pokez Mexican Restaurant.
Basile Studio, a Downtown-based design firm, is responsible for the savvy aesthetics. Copious windows framed in brick show off an inviting interior that cleverly incorporates industrial elements into what feels like the dining room of a Victorian farmhouse in Georgia. The rooster-print wallpaper rising above wainscoting is homey-chic; endearing rather than hokey.
My companion, a hobbyist chef, delved into Southern cooking for an underground supper party he threw last year. He was familiar (and approving) of the “comeback sauce” that came with our fried green tomatoes.
Known also as “Delta sauce,” it’s a Mississippi staple that blends mayonnaise with mild chili sauce like the kind Heinz makes, plus citrus and paprika. Think Thousand Island dressing but with a welcoming after-heat from the addition of cayenne pepper.
The tomatoes were firm and slightly tart as they should be, encased by cornmeal-flour batter that gives them their ultimate, rugged character.
A paper tray of deviled eggs followed. They were moist and creamy and adorned with pimentos and radishes for extra zing. Just as well they’re served only four to an order because they would have prompted us into an overdose, a common scenario with this nostalgic party dish that housewives of the 1950s couldn’t do without.
Fried chicken appears on the regular menu atop buttermilk waffles and inside yeasty angel-biscuit buns. From a short list of dinner specials it stars in a salad with Ranch dressing or in plated form with bacon-kissed white gravy and two side dishes. My companion chose the full dinner. Apparently it’s all about the thighs here; no breasts or drum sticks in sight.
But a mondo thigh it was. Bigger than any I’ve seen before. The batter was a little salty, but sported a sturdy, crispy texture from perhaps the addition of cornmeal in the recipe. It tasted cleaner and less greasy compared to some of the more sinful versions I’ve had in The South. Although that isn’t to say I’d turn down a bucket of the stuff.
The accompanying buttermilk biscuit was also huge, like a deluxe, warm pillow promising comfy dreams to diehard carb lovers. We liked the jalapeno corn muffin better, especially when drizzling jalapeno honey over each bite.
I chose pulled pork on a house-baked all-American white roll. The “spicy slaw” tucked inside wasn’t all that spicy, but fresh nonetheless and playing well to the moist, tender pork tumbling out from all ends.
We also tried the chicken pot pie sealed in puffy angel-biscuit crust. Inside was a sea of sweet peas and carrots interspersed with succulent thigh meat. The milky sauce resting at the bottom was classic and neutral tasting as we scooped it up from the bottom to moisturize the crust’s thick mantel.
Main entrees come with at least one side dish. The collard greens rocked. They’re steamed with smoked ham hocks or sometimes smoked turkey legs, along with brown sugar, hot chilies and vinegar. Even those who eschew vegetable matter will love this recipe.
The cheesy grits were also blue-ribbon. They were exceptionally creamier than the slab of mac-n-cheese we chose with our potpie, despite the fact it is made with a base of evaporated milk incorporating sharp cheddar, Jack and American cheeses — soul warming but sans the wow factor we expected.
ACME’s recipe for sweet-and-spicy baked beans would be the envy at any Yankee picnic. Soft and meaty, they tasted like candy with a delayed hot-and-smoky kick.
Other menu items include chipped bologna sandwiches with American cheese on thick white bread, shrimp and grits with tasso gravy and a grilled meatloaf sandwich using a mix of beef, chicken and pork.
Gavre has done her homework well on this latest venture, which comes as no surprise when looking at the success of her other restaurants: Café 222 about a mile away and her collaboration with Chef Carl Schroeder at Bankers Hill Bar + Restaurant as well as Market Restaurant + Bar in Del Mar.
Right down to the icebox lemon pie and chocolate cake with “shiny frosting” for dessert, ACME sends you back in time to when comfort food as we know it originated.
—Frank Sabatini Jr. es el autor de “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), y comenzó a escribir sobre comida hace dos décadas como miembro del personal del antiguo San Diego Tribune. Desde entonces, ha cubierto ampliamente la escena culinaria para NBC, Pacific San Diego Magazine, San Diego Downtown News, San Diego Uptown News, Gay San Diego y Living in Style Magazine. Puedes localizarlo en [email protected].
