I’m Sunny-Point-Up in Asheville
This isn’t a restaurant review, it‘s a love song. Every time that we are in Asheville, for business, for pleasure, or just passing through, we make a point of visiting the Sunny Point Café in West Asheville. We discovered it several years ago when, after overdosing on elegance and snobbery at the Grove Park Inn (expenses paid), I approached a woman who looked like someone I would like to know, and asked her to recommend a place for breakfast.
We made a special stop there this week on our way back from the mountains. West Asheville is funky and thriving, just as artsy, a tad more authentically unconventional than the upscale, upmarket, high rent downtown district. Younger, more tattoos, and more genuine, at least to this aging (some might say aged) hippie wannabe.
I’ve included a snapshot of the staff – our waitperson, Nina, is the girl in the hat. The guy on the far left belongs to me. I hope that the photo conveys the character of the restaurant – a bit ramshackle, a bit loose, and a camaraderie that is palpable.
The food, always wonderful. I had an incredible, home-made, hand-made bean burger; Dick tried the grilled pimento cheese, along with the special apple cake dessert. I’ve never had a bad choice there.
But Sunny Point provides more than food. A bit like Cheers, it may not be a place where everybody knows your name, but you sure get the sense that they would like to. Warm, inviting, a great eclectic mix of tattoos, piercings, bohemian tights and dreads – all sitting comfortably with matrons who, for today, left their pearls at home. Everyone seems equally welcomed. A place you could go, sit, read a book with your meal, and feel appreciated.
There’s even a veggie garden in the back. I think that it adds to the sense of concern, of caring – about the food that’s prepared, and the people who prepare it, and the people who consume and pay for it.
Maybe it’s the food, maybe it’s the ambiance, maybe it’s just what we bring to it, but I have a soft spot for Sunny Point. Some Seder feasts conclude with Next Year in Jerusalem, but at our house, we say, Next Year at Sunny Point!