— Martin Bar & Bistro —
$19 / May 2024
Just because you can, does it mean you should?
The core-country music blaring out of open second-floor windows seems to announce the purpose of Huntsville, Alabama’s Martin Bar & Bistro. It’s a little bit of Nashville’s Lower Broadway in Huntsville’s small but attractive downtown. Up the stairs, there’s nothing left to the imagination, with innumerable screens showing the obscure sports that populate TV at 11:30 in the morning (we’re talking golf’s Senior Tour here). The tap beer is run of the mill. But the day is gorgeous, 72 degrees and no humidity — in Alabama — and you just have to take advantage of that outdoor-indoor seating.
The bartender’s been around. Watching him work is a lesson in customer service. He’s too old to use the vernacular common to Gen Z servers (“niiiice,” “per-fect” and such). I don’t know his name, he’s not giving it up, and it’s perfectly fine not to have that nicety. Conversation is light, he’s got a half-dozen of us at the bar, and he rotates his attention like clockwork. Timing is everything, right?
I’m not here to drink. A tee time awaits, the window is tight, and I need fuel. I don’t want this, I don’t want that. Ok, there it is, we’re keeping it simple: grilled chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans. This deep in Dixie, the green beans might come out that special Southern way, cooked about 30 seconds from mushy, which is an acquired taste I’ve somehow managed to acquire. Cool. Whatever.
I order, and the bartender says, “I hope you’re hungry.” Yeah yeah. About 10 minutes after a small salad, unique only in the large number of halved grape tomatoes, lunch is served, and I’ve never seen so much food on a plate. You like to load it up at Thanksgiving? Nope. Making the rounds of the app stations at a wedding? Nope. The six-egg country omelette from IHOP? Nope. Just forget it. It’s the biggest one-plate lunch extant.
And here’s the kicker: the food is excellent. I mean, as great as grilled chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans will ever be. I am very comfortable eating this comfort food. There must be a pound of chicken there, two butterflied breasts, seasoned only with salt and pepper, left on the grill not a second too late or too early. The potatoes are almost chunky, pebbly, the gravy rocking deep in a well and super-hot in temperature. No powdered potatoes at this bar. And the green beans? Sauteed almost to blistering. The bartender didn’t charge for the club soda.
Which brings us back to the question at hand. I don’t know the economics behind Martin’s largesse. Maybe they own the building and pay no rent. Something’s going on, though. Either they are willing to shave their profit margin on food as a lure to drinkers, or the vast majority of restaurants in this country could afford to give their customers a slightly better shake. But here’s the thing: How does a single person eat a pound of chicken at one time (no refrigerator, no cooler, no to-go box), let alone the carbs and veg that come along for the ride? The bartender confirms very few people do. Far be it for me, as an American, to turn down a meal that’s of value either on price or volume, but as my leftovers slide into the trash can, it’s clear that there are social and environmental costs here. Sometimes there’s too much of a good thing. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.