Last week I posted a question on Facebook asking for recommendations for family-owned restaurants. The longer they’ve been around, the better.
A reason for this is because I’m a notorious creature of habit. I tend to frequent the same five restaurants.
I, like many people I know, live in a midtown/downtown bubble. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that because there are numerous high-quality options that could keep me satisfied for years. Who am I kidding? They have.
When I asked for recommendations, I wasn’t surprised to see the usual suspects get listed. There is Nelson’s Buffeteria, The Bro. Houligan, Kilkenny’s, Jim’s Never on Sunday, My Thai Kitchen and more. All great restaurants.
There was a lone north Tulsa establishment named: El Rio Verde. Again not surprising. For years it was known as the place to get a giant burrito. I’ve long been a fan of their chorizo wet burrito. (Also, nobody has named White River Fish Market.)
When I posted the question on Facebook, I told myself to expect the commonly-shared names. What I didn’t expect was the lack of restaurants named outside the bubble. I have friends all over Tulsa. Even they were naming the popular midtown establishments.
Maybe my question wasn’t clear enough for what I really wanted, but I also didn’t want to hold people’s hands and guide them too much. As I watched the map turn red in midtown and the outlying areas remain empty, I decided to update my post.
I added that I wanted to know about any north of highway 244, aka north Tulsa. A few then popped up on the list. These were the gems I hoped to learn about and then go try.
My facebook map of suggestions as of Monday afternoon. The blue dot is my residence.
In the back of my head, I expected everything to happen as it did. Why? Because I believe most people are scared to venture out of their comfort zones (logistically and taste), even if it means possibly missing out on some of the best food in Tulsa.
I’m just as guilty. It’s super easy for me to get tacos from Taco Don Francisco’s or Mr. Nice Guys or Mexican food at El Tequila or La Hacienda. I can grab good barbecue at numerous places within a few miles of my house. There are multiple small burger joints within two miles of me. I eat wings almost every Wednesday at Elgin Park.
There’s also the (mis?)perceived issues of safety. I’ve heard it before. I’m sure you have too. Coincidentally (or not), those areas also tend to be where a majority of African Americans or other ethnicities live and work. I asked an acquaintance this weekend if they knew of any good restaurants in north Tulsa. Their response was they didn’t want to risk their car getting stolen while enjoying dinner. Then they laughed.
I’ll admit north Tulsa is a strange land to me. A lot has to do with old habits mixed in with a dose of ignorance. The only reason east Tulsa isn’t is because I used to office on that side of town, so there were many visits to Pho-Nhi, Casa de San Marcos and a few other restaurants.
I feel bad that I don’t have a better relationship with all parts of the city, except for south Tulsa, known affectionately as Dallas. I view east Tulsa as a growing sector full of more recent additions of immigrants. This could be wrong, but it definitely doesn’t compare to the history of the areas around downtown because that’s where our city started. As for west Tulsa, it seems to be a lot of oil refineries and a train yard then it quickly becomes Sand Springs, Sapulpa and Berryhill. All areas I intend to spend more time in the future minus the oil refineries.
When it comes to north Tulsa, I feel like I’ve wrongly ignored my neighbors. Many of the families have ties going back to the early days of Black Wall Street or even before. Many of their businesses have been around for generations. There are stories to be told and delicious food to be consumed.
My goal is to join various Tulsans in the search of great local food that has flown under the radar, while learning more history about our city and the people who call it home. I vow not to base my choices off of Yelp or Facebook reviews. I will only listen to word of mouth or choose a spot blind.
That quest began Monday.
I was joined by barbecue/taco chef Joel Bein of Rub. He knows more about north Tulsa cuisine than me, but not that much more as I soon learned.
I’ve known Joel for more than a decade dating back to when he was a bartender at Empire. Since then he has become one of the best food truck operators in the state. You can find him at the farmer’s market doing breakfast, taco Tuesdays at Fuel 66, serving food at Gathering Place and at all sorts of private functions. The man and his crew stays busy.
The dude loves food and knows more people serving dishes across the metro than I do, so when he texted me asking if I wanted to go to lunch, I laced up my sneakers and rushed out the door.
We met at Fuel 66, where I climbed into his massive red Ford truck and then we started our trip traveling north on Lewis.
Along the way we discussed the barbecue landscape in Tulsa. We agree Burn Co. is overrated (that doesn’t mean they’re not good, there’s just a lot more out there that people overlook). We both agree people tend to spend too much time on the sauces and not enough time on how they smoke meat. This maybe isn’t the cooks faults as much as it is the consumer. People love to soak their meat in sauce, which to both us is a sign of bad cooking or terrible taste when it comes to smoked meats and steak.
Joel had a place in mind. The more he described it, the more excited I got. We drove past various small businesses and a number of churches. I kept an eye out for restaurants and mainly saw taco shops that have been added to the list. (Anybody eat at Super Taco?)
We drove east a few blocks before Joel realized it was the opposite direction. A few minutes later we pulled into the gravel lot and learned it was closed. Damn. The place looked amazing. I can’t wait to go back and eat there.
There was another restaurant about a mile away that Joel said I have to try. When we arrived there, it too was closed. As we walked back toward the truck, I mentioned that Google is our friend, and that we should ensure the next choice was open.
We discussed why both restaurants were closed on a Monday. My guess is they get slammed so hard on weekends and especially after Sunday church services that they take a day to regroup. If this is not accurate, please let me know.
We googled another restaurant on my list and it was open exclusively for breakfast and lunch Monday through Friday. It was a restaurant neither of us had tried.
Joel began the trek and we soon encountered an unmarked road closure that also forced a city vehicle to do an awkward turnaround. Seeing no signs for a detour, we opted for a highway route and directions from Siri.
“Watch the directions lead us to a field,” Joel said. I laughed then mentioned it happened to me before when I ended up illegally crossing the border into Mexico.
After 10 minutes of driving, Siri told us we had arrived at our destination. To our right was Sparks Aviation. To our left was an empty field. This made us laugh hard. We decided to drive around the block one more time and then we followed a few trucks pulling into a packed lot.
Tucked away among the assortment of hangars on the west side of the airport is the unassuming restaurant, Evelyn’s Soul Food. There is no signage along the street, so once you pass Sparks, it’s the next parking lot to the south.
It’s owned by Wanda J, the culinary entrepreneur who has been in the news recently for a controversial rent increase on her Greenwood restaurant space that nearly closed the restaurant before getting resolved. Wanda J was not at Evelyn’s during the lunch rush. An employee later stated she was at a third place working, so my chance to meet her would have to wait another day.
According to the Evelyn’s website, Wanda J’s love for cooking started as a child with mud pies before she started sneaking into her mom’s (Evelyn’s) eggs and butter while attempting to turn an old Chevy into an imaginary restaurant.
In 1974, she established Wanda J’s Soul Food Kitchen. In 2005, she opened Evelyn’s Soul Food Kitchen. It’s unclear if it was in the same spot. I forgot to ask about this.
As soon as we parked, a cook came out of the kitchen to hug Joel. Turns out he works days there then works on Blue Boys Soul Food Truck. He rushed back into the kitchen through a side door and we entered through the front door.
It’s a big restaurant. I counted at least 20 tables full of hungry patrons. Most were middle-aged men in khakis and button down shirts. Some featured logos of various airline companies, while one table was loaded with Ditch Witch workers. A two-person wait staff worked the mint-colored room carrying trays of meatloaf (the Monday special) and what I assume is the signature meal: fried chicken.
The lunch menu. The breakfast menu is on the other side.
As every table around us ordered the meatloaf, Joel and I chose to go for the catfish and the chicken fried steak. We agreed to divide and conquer our meals. As we discussed the sides, Joel pointed out something I believe to be true.
“You know when they list mac and cheese under vegetables it’s going to be a great meal,” he said as we both chose mac and cheese as a side.
He also went with the greens and I automatically selected the candied yams. When I saw the table next to us get the green beans, I realized I should have opted for that instead of a second serving of mac and cheese.
I’m so happy everything led us to the moment when the waitress unloaded the tray of dishes onto our table.
The catfish was cooked perfect. The cornmeal provided a perfect coating and provided the desirable crunch when biting into it. The fish flaked away into smaller tasty morsels as soon I bit into it. I had been craving catfish for a while, and this meal made the wait worth it.
I then cut the chicken fried in half and handed off Joel’s portion. I cut off a small piece of mine and tried it as it came. The batter was the perfect amount. Too often a chicken fried will come with a large amount of it being just batter with no meat between. This wasn’t the case at Evelyn’s. Every bite had breading and meat. It was smothered in standard white gravy, but I was asked if I wanted brown gravy, which is something I’ve never tried on a chicken fried. I’d put their’s up against Nelson’s any day.
I splashed Louisiana Hot Sauce on both the catfish and the chicken fried steak. Like I said before, I’m a creature of habit, and I like my food hot. I’ve doused my chicken fried steak in hot sauce dating back to when I cooked them and devoured them at a family-owned restaurant in Claremore during high school and college. (Remember earlier when I talked about people and sauces? Well hot sauce doesn’t count.)
As for the sides, the mac and cheese is homemade and delicious. It took a lot of self-restraint to not drink the remaining cheese at the bottom of the bowl.
I tried the greens and they were among the best I’ve tasted. Joel basically dumped the bowl in his mouth before I could swipe more bites.
The cornbread was a bit dry, but it still had great flavor, and I ate all of it.
The candied yams made my eyes roll back into my head and my heart skip a beat. Each bite was full of flavor as it melted in my mouth. A part of me wanted to rush into the kitchen, grab the warming dish of yams and devour it right there on the spot. I didn’t do this because of first impressions. Just wait!
Photographic evidence of culinary nirvana.
Joel poked fun at me for eating the main dish and then the sides.
“We came for the main entree, so I wanted to make sure I tackled that first,” I responded. It wasn’t entirely false, but also not entirely true either. I had a feeling that I’ve love the yams and wanted to save those for last.
OK, it wasn’t the last thing I ate.
I’ve been craving cobbler for weeks. Also pie. My sweet tooth has become way more vocal the last two months, and I’m a sucker for cobblers and pies. You can keep your cakes.
I was stuffed, but then I saw a couple of guys return to their table with the peach cobbler.
At Evelyn’s, they have a self-serve, all-you-can-eat peach cobbler.
You read that right. ALL YOU CAN EAT!
Lucky for them, the cobbler had been decimated by the time we finished our meal, so I could only load one small plate with it. Otherwise I might have lifted the metal dish from the warmer and carried it back to my table. (Despite the fact I was already stuffed.)
The best peach cobbler I’ve had in Tulsa.
Evelyn’s has the best peach cobbler I’ve tasted. I didn’t even care that there wasn’t vanilla ice cream or whip cream to go with it. The crust was cooked to a flaky perfection. The peaches fell apart when scooped up. Add in the warm sauce and it was one heck of a party inside my mouth.
I’ve lived in Tulsa since 2006, which means for the last 12 years I had been missing out on some of the best soul food in Tulsa. I’m so happy I’ve corrected that longtime mistake.
As we paid, Joel pointed out an old black and white portrait of Evelyn resting on an unused bar next to a lot of clean silverware waiting to be wrapped in paper napkins. I gave the portrait a head nod and a thumbs up.
“Oh you both ate all that and the cobbler. You’re gonna be napping soon,” said the woman pushing buttons on the register.
Following me stretching and taking a few deep breaths, I climbed into Joel’s truck. During the ride back to my car, we discussed how great the meal was and how we’re both excited to continue exploring the restaurants we have ignored for far too long. We agreed we’d also be returning to Evelyn’s to try the fried chicken.
When I got home, I answered a few emails with heavy eyes and then stretched out on the couch and enjoyed an afternoon slumber where I dreamed about fried foods, yams and cobbler... sweet, warm delicious peach cobbler.