You can't create the kind of atmosphere you find at the new Manna From Heaven soul food restaurant in St. Petersburg; it has to grow. In this case, it took a converted stainless steel train car and 25 years as a destination restaurant — Shirley's Soul Food — that hosted neighborhood gossips and political candidates, and kept them stuffed with tasty home cooking.
When Shirley's closed a year ago, the location was teased back to life (or almost-life) three times in just 10 months, before finally falling into the hands of a woman who seems at home in the place. It certainly helps that her food hearkens back to the cuisine of Shirley Tigg.
Assunta Fisher started Manna from Heaven right around the time that Shirley's closed last year, serving her hearty soul food out of a Sunoco gas station with just eight seats and a lot of takeout. She seems right at home now in the aged stainless steel of the converted train car lined with a long diner counter, one end devoted to a cash register backed by a genealogical chart that shows who came between Adam and Eve and Mary and Joseph. A small table features pamphlets and business cards from local entrepreneurs, and an old-fashioned refrigerated pie spinner slowly turns in the corner.
I can see where the decor might feel a little drab, or even tired, but the loud soundtrack of energized gospel and slick R&B love songs does a lot to transform quaint into characterful. You'll likely tap your feet while waiting for your takeout.
That soundtrack also suits Fisher's classic soul food, from slowly braised oxtail in a peppery gravy over seasoned yellow rice to fresh fried chicken cooked to order, crisp and salty, juices and oil mixing to drip down your fingers. There's sweet potato pie redolent of nutmeg, and banana pudding that's sweet enough to make you screw up your face in childlike pleasure. Gizzards or smothered chops, green beans or collards, the food at Manna from Heaven ranges from merely satisfying to crave-inducing greatness.
The fried chicken is something you will crave. Fisher encourages me to call ahead with my order the next time I come, since fresh-frying the juicy pieces takes a fair amount of time. She's obviously — and accurately — confident that I'll be back for more of that juicy meat encased in crisp fat and flour, fried and seasoned to perfection.
Of course, I might be coming back for the oxtail instead, the strikingly tender meat falling from round slabs of bone, dripping in rich gravy punctuated by plenty of black pepper, all atop seasoned yellow rice. This dish could teach a few high-end local chefs a thing or two about how to do short ribs with a little more passion, or how to transform a neglected piece of meat into an exceptionally tasty meal, all for under $10 retail.
Manna's manna isn't all from heaven — the meatloaf is dense and tastes of basic beef and green pepper, some of the sides are almost blah — but those dishes are the exception. You still have decadent pork chops doused in rich milk gravy, the meat pulling from the bone with little effort. Fisher's mac and cheese has that ideal combination of creamy elegance and shockingly cheesy flavor, while baked beans are loaded with brown sugar and pumpkin pie spices. Collards are bright with vinegar and red pepper heat, while wings are as good as the rest of the fried chicken, albeit in a smaller package.
Occasionally, some of the dishes feel a tad over-the-top, like candied yams that leave a string of sugary caramel from plate to mouth — more candy than yam — or banana pudding that might leave you wondering how Fisher can make something taste that sweet without violating several laws of physics, or perhaps some more arcane state regulations.
But in the end, now that we're all theoretically smart enough to not eat like this every day, that's what soul food is all about. All that fat and sugar, flavor and joy, is decidedly decadent in a self-indulgent way that fine dining rarely manages anymore. If we want to treat ourselves, to be bad in a way that tastes so good, we're more likely to load up on $8 fried chicken with sides of mac and collards, than we are to buy a bottle of Bordeaux and down a $40 steak.
And, from now on, I'll likely do my indulging at Manna From Heaven.
This article appears in Sep 1-7, 2011.