Welcome back to Savannah Flavors, our weekly newsletter bringing you the latest delicious details from Savannah’s culinary scene every Thursday.

Here is what’s on the menu today:

• Savannah Tech readies to open Culinary Institute restaurant 🍷🍰

• Anita’s Deli shares their favorite spots to eat downtown 🌯🥤

• Homemade BBQ Sauce perfect for any cookout 🔥🍖

• Sunday Flunch at Sorry Charlie’s 🦪🍹

THE MAIN DISH

Savannah Tech readies to open Culinary Institute restaurant in historic Bay Street property 🍰🍷🥩

In this case, our collective alimentary anticipation has included an entire restaurant and culinary education epicenter, and what Savannah Technical College has cooked up is going to be better than anyone could have imagined.

For the last few years, millions of traipsing tourists and dallying drivers who have traveled along the thoroughfare that is Bay Street have seen the ‘Coming Soon’ signs: filling up the windows of 7 West Bay, images of aproned and toqued chefs, all smiling, perhaps because they knew what was going on behind those doors.

In less than a month, Savannah Culinary Institute will be given the Certificate of Occupancy, which means dinner will soon be served - after classes are held to teach students how to make said dinner, of course.

Robert Grant, Savannah Technical College’s (STC) Vice President for Community and College Relations, expects that a media day will be held in December with a grand opening come the calendar’s turn to 2025.

“On day one of my job,” Grant recalled, “I walked into my office, and hanging on the wall in a frame was the front page of the Savannah Morning News from 2018, and it said, ‘Savannah Technical College to build culinary institute downtown’.”

He paused for effect and smiled.

While six years may sound like a long lead time, when the ribbon is cut on the 14,000-square-foot facility, guests will see why patience is, indeed, a virtue.

CHEF’S CRAVINGS

Anita & Robert Rentz, William Coker, and Antonio Purnell (Anita Deli Sandwich) 🥪🥤🍪

Each week, I ask the folks behind the phenomenal food at our favorite places around Savannah these same simple questions:

When you are not in your restaurant kitchen, where do you go out to eat and what do you order?

Since January of 2021, Anita and Robert Rentz have owned and run Anita Deli Sandwich, catty-corner across from Crystal Beer Parlor. As soon as diners devoured a Roy Rogers and a Southern Gobbler, the playfully eponymous deli became a beloved addition to the cozy neighborhood that is home to several special Savannah eateries. This weeks’ Chefs’ Cravings come from the husband-and-wife duo behind the counter and cooks William Coker and Antonio Purcell.

WC: I would tell anybody to go to Bull Street and make their way to Betty Bombers. Tell them Will told you to get the Chicken Fried Loaded Chicken Fries. I already knew what I was going to say.

AR: He’s been thinking about it.

WC: That’s my go-to. He lives right there (nods to AP).

AP: When I’m not at Anita’s, I’d say Baby Cakes. It’s really like a corner store, right there on the corner of 34th and Burroughs. I like a ten-piece wing with fries or a cheeseburger, five-piece, and fries combo. Wings to

WC: (nodding back) That’s it.

AP: Wings to your flavor and crispy fries.

WC: And to make everything better, it’s a convenience store. They just so happen to be cooking there, too.

AR: We do go to Crystal Beer Parlor a lot. It’s convenient, and they deliver it to us, too, which is super-sweet. I usually get the hamburger steak…

RR: The hamburger steak, the gyros are good.

AR: I’ll get gravy fries sometimes.

AP: Their fries are amazing.

AR: You know, they discontinued the mac-and-cheese. I loved their macaroni and cheese.

WC: They don’t do it every Friday no more?

AR: I think they only do it on Sundays.

WC: When I was working there we had mac-and-cheese every Friday? Or Sunday?

AR: But they don’t run it as a side anymore.

WC: Popeye’s always on standby. I could talk about food all day. B&D Burgers. Oh, Taphouse! They had this mac-and-cheese burger that I got one time, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

And for a special occasion?

AR: We like 1790 [17Hundred90 Inn & Restaurant]. Anything that’s on the menu. Nothing is ever bad there.

WC: Where is that place?

AR: Off of President Street in a really, really historic building - and it’s very haunted.

RR: Yeah, 1790. Chive on Broughton.

AR: Oh yeah, Chive. They’ve got excellent seafood, and it’s sexy in there.

WC: You said money’s no object? I ain’t going to lie. I’m going straight to [The Olde] Pink House. It’s a little expensive, but the food is really good.

AR: And I’ll say Noble Fare. Since they were my previous bosses before I took over here, I’ll give them a shout-out.

AP: There’s a dessert place down here, it’s called Better Than Sex. I didn’t want to say that out loud. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard about their menu. I want to take my girl there.

WC: I’ve heard a lot about that place, too. Cold Stone. I’d go there for a date night just because I love ice cream that much.

-Neil Gabbey

TRIED, TASTED, TRUE

Homemade Barbecue sauce 🍖

THE STORY BEHIND THE RECIPE

I know, I know. Every week, it seems, I lament my Western New York upbringing if only for its lack of Southern food staples I have quickly grown to love. I grew up with great pizza, both red and white grilled hots, real maple syrup, and apples literally falling into my lap.

Barbecue? Nah.

Even during my college days in coastal Virginia, slow-smoked meats were still an undiscovered comestible country, and it was not until The Baltimore Years that my wife and I - alright, I - fell head over sticky fingers for pulled pork and pit beef. Back then, we frequented Andy Nelson’s and Big Bad Wolf’s House of Barbecue, often our food reward for weekend errands run. 

Seconds before I typed this sentence, I Googled ‘Baltimore barbecue restaurants’, and the hit turned up some two-dozen joints, many that came into existence after we left town a decade ago and most with ratings above 4.5 next to the little knife and fork icon.

A substantial smaller city, Savannah boasts nearly the same number BBQ-based restaurants, and I am ashamed to have sampled only a handful, though that is mainly because I am an eater of habit and have had no reason to stray from my usuals: Munchie’s, Sandfly Bar-B-Q, Wiley’s Championship BBQ, and Slow Fire BBQ.

Heck, y’all: whenever we go to Erica Davis Lowcountry and Geneva's Famous Chicken and Cornbread Co., I never order barbecue because I crave the former’s fried flounder platter and the latter’s tenders.  

That being true, I delightedly dunk Miss Geneva Wade’s fried chicken into her scratch-made barbecue sauce, the likes of which I had never tasted until she and husband Kenny opened up their latest eatery in 2019. What makes it unique, at least in my albeit limited experience, was its color: not at all maroon but burnt orange, like the University of Texas had branched into barbecue sauce.

Somehow, this sauce’s sweetness is matched by its tang with just a smidgen of heat. On my tenders and my wife’s fried shrimp, there is no better accompaniment.

Though I have never brought both home to run a taste test, Munchie’s sauce is very similar to my palate and bears a similar roasted yam hue. Even after one of the delightful servers slathers it all over my chicken-and-ribs combo, I sheepishly ask for two more ramekins.

Other BBQ joints in and around Savannah might make a doppelganger dip, one that is decidedly less Eastern Carolina-vinegary and definitely not thick-and-sweet Kansan, but these two are my go-tos.

Even though our power was restored post-Helene sooner than most, I decided to fire up the Weber Kettle that Monday, knowing that I had a day off from school to stoke coals and smoke ribs.

For the first time, I tried to replicate Miss Geneva’s and Munchie’s orangey barbecue sauces, and I am pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Drawing on two reliable online recipes, I knew that the distinctive hue was down to adding more yellow mustard. Thank you, elementary school art classes. For simplicity’s sake, I did not sweat onions and garlic, the starter step in Jenn Segal’s (www.onceuponachef.com) version, but I otherwise commingled her ingredients with John Willoughby’s (cooking.nytimes.com), passing on his addition of freshly cracked black pepper because I am moved to madness when flecks clog a squeeze bottle.

All of the ingredients went into a medium saucepan, and I simmered it for about twenty minutes, whisking in a quarter cup of water before service to loosen the batch up a bit.

While my mustard-forward attempt at mimicking Munchie’s and Miss Geneva’s might not have bullseyed the mark, its tang tasted dang good on those ribs, and I made enough to brush onto some bone-in chicken breasts this coming weekend.

-Neil Gabbey

THE RECIPE

HARD GOODS 

• ¼ cup light brown sugar

• 2 teaspoons smoked paprika

• 1 teaspoon New Mexico chili powder 🌶

• ½ teaspoon ground coriander

• ½ teaspoon ground cumin

• ½ teaspoon granulated garlic 🧄

• ½ teaspoon granulated onion 🧅

• ½ kosher salt

WET GOODS

• 1 ½ cups ketchup

• 1 cup yellow mustard

• ¼ cup cider vinegar

• 2 tablespoons molasses

• 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

• 2 tablespoons hot sauce (e.g. Texas Pete)

• ¼ cup water (optional, as needed)

DO THIS

1. Place all of the ingredients, except the water, in a medium saucepan

2. Whisk together until all of the dry goods have dissolved and the mixture is a uniform color

3. Bring to a simmer over medium-low heat

4. Cook for 20 minutes

5. Cool to room temperature before serving

6. Whisk in between 2 tablespoons and a ¼ cup water to loosen the sauce to preference

BEEN THERE. ATE THAT.

Sorry Charlie’s

Here is a ‘no duh’ from a food writer: one of the best parts of living in Savannah is the food scene.

The converse, though, is also true: one of the worst parts is locals who do not avail themselves of all of the excellent eateries north of Victory Drive.

While my wife and I are largely innocent of the second supposition, there are particular places between Broughton Street and the river that we have not yet patronized a decade into our Savannahian status. Until a few weeks ago, Sorry Charlie’s was an unintentional unknown. 

Now, we know. This is a non-chain, locally owned restaurant serving scratch-made food that fills three menus, one for each of its concepts within the historic Gibbons Range Building.

Going all in on the Portmanteaus, for Sunday flunch a few weekends back, we met a friend-league in Sorry Charlie’s ground-floor space, which was already packed at noon. A glance around gave me the impression that we might have been the only locals in the convivial dining room. Our friend’s family does not like seafood, so he was more than happy to drive all the way from the Southside to join us.

Right away, the attention provided by Liane and Laney was lovely, and it was clear that facilitating the full room was par for the course.

Freshened up by executive chef Nate Cayer since he came onboard a year ago August, the lunch menu is replete with upscale seafood shack classics, offering plenty without overwhelming. 

Our friend ordered the roasted oyster sampler ($20) and the red snapper ceviche ($18), and my wife and I split the Savannah blue crab cakes ($16), roasted shrimp tacos ($16), and a side of hush puppies ($9). That would easily be more food than we could eat, so a side of Savannah red rice ($6) sadly did not make the cut. 

The seven hush puppies were bigger than golf balls, beautifully crisp and light, made with more flour than cornmeal which gave them a donut-like interior. The honey-sumac butter was sensational, easily rivaling Desposito’s honey butter as the best hush puppy accompaniment in town.

Our friend alternated slurps of oyster, starting with one of the crispy garlic-parmesan, and brothy, citrusy ceviche that had a jalapeño kick. With a tarragon nod to Cayer’s French culinary training, the dish itself is one of his own additions to the menu, served with fresh cut and fried taro chips, a wholly novel side starch.

Each four inches around, the two crab cakes were light but packed with flaky crabmeat and not one crumb of filler, cornmeal-crusted and butter-grilled. The tarragon remoulade made for a mature and tasty tartar sauce substitution.

Served on flour tortillas, the three shrimp tacos were overstuffed, loaded with both cucumber and cabbage slaw and frothy avocado crema. Neither my wife nor I could distinguish green tomato in the salsa, but some spice or perhaps jalapeño pepper gave each bite a big kick.

Knowing that it would be his favorite, our friend saved one of the Rockefeller oysters for last: he was anything but disappointed.

I know that this will smack pejoratively, so I will be certain to underscore my sincerity. The patent fact is that restaurants betwixt Broughton Street and the river do not really have to try. That is not to allege that all of those eateries take it easy, if you will, but the masses are constantly passing by and are coming in every day whether or not effort and ingenuity are expended.

Sorry Charlie’s is assuredly a restaurant that is doing its level best to level up and is far better than it has to be, one that every Savannahiah should enjoy.

-Neil Gabbey