Agnes & Muriel's

Midtown Atlanta has come to Peachtree City. Not only that, It's come in the form of a 50's and 60's style restaurant. I ate with some pals at the new Agnes & Muriel's this past week and it was an experience rarely found in Peachtree City. Not counting Partner's Pizza where most patrons sorta "live" instead of eat, Agnes & Muriel's is finally a food "joint" we need in Fayette county. Here's the journal from my visit.

11:35 A.M. Arrive, and like almost every other customer, can't find the front door. This must be considered part of the entertainment for those inside the totally glassed diner in West Park Walk Village. Much like the new movie "Truman," everyone plays voyeur as the unaware person outside, looks left, looks right, pulls on locked doors, and wanders aimlessly trying to find the entrance. It was especially refreshing to see suited businessmen flail around in frustration while at the same time trying to impress their associates.

11:45 Still Waiting. My typically tardy friend Bob has even defeated my "Murphy's Lunch Compensation Principle," that is, telling a chronic-late person to meet you at a time 15 minutes earlier than you will arrive yourself, thereby arriving at the same time.

11:46 Survey the Motif. While I wait, I notice the design of the restaurant. It is a mixture of 50's and 60's kitsche. Mismatched decor such as pictures, furniture and table settings makes this place wonderfully accepting of a guy who wears shorts anytime the weather is above 50 degrees. There is a doodly-type painting with an out of square frame, remindful of the Jetsons. There is an enclosed, teak Hi Fi stereo against the wall, begging for a Bobby Darin record. The background music playing on the radio or sound system is disco. The manager is wearing a mock-hawaian shirt like the servicemen used to wear off hours during the war.

11:50. Learn the Name. The host tells me who Agnes and Muriel are. I had envisioned them being two jet-setters who sat opposite the round table of Dorothy Parker and Ernest Hemingway, only found in an obscure Sylvia Plath poem. But they are actually the mothers of the two owners who started the original Agnes and Muriel's in Midtown. This establishment in Peachtree City is the second. The restaurant's motto is "Food you wish your mom cooked."

11:55. Bob Arrives. We sit and listen as our waitress, who also sits with us, tells us the specials. She looks much more midtown than Peachtree City and tells us that this is the only place that will hire a girl with a pierced eyebrow. This is not necessarily true as The Elephant's Tale, my daughter's favorite toy store employs a girl with an eyebrow ring. Yet, I can't imagine one of the waitresses at Shadows having anything radically pierced. This all should change soon though, since Mayor Lennox had his tongue done. We learn from the waitress a sorta new motto, "If something on the menu sucks today, we'll tell you."

12:05. Our two friends George and Derek finally make it to the table. They didn't know it, but they were the twelve o'clock matinee as they stood outside trying to find the entrance, they pantomimed a perfect "Swan Lake." As the arrived, the house gave them a standing ovation. Derek did a perfect mime of "trapped in box" only he did it against the reflective windows not knowing 90 people inside were watching.

12:15. Our Food Arrives. After George comments, "This place isn't a restaurant, this is my Grandma's house," our food comes and it makes for the perfect lunch. Turnips, fried green tomatoes and fried chicken do send me back to my mom's kitchen of formica and avocado. Only, she never made fried green tomatoes and no one at Agnes and Muriel's hit me with the flyswatter for talking back.

Billy Murphy - 6/5/98