Food Review: Native in Decatur

By Megan Volpert

Once the weather gets warmer, you’ll likely want to line up early to get a seat at Native, the self-described “local joint” blessed with the most coveted patio dining space in downtown Decatur. Formerly home to a Thai place and a pizza place, this great location may finally have some food worthy of its amusing street view and spacious porch.

Credit for the food goes to Executive Chef Chris Gould, formerly of the underappreciated and sorely missed Depeaux. Born and raised in New Orleans, Chef Gould puts a definitive Louisiana stamp on what the restaurant promises is “local, seasonal comfort food.”
So goes the menu and so too goes the hospitality, with the terrifyingly friendly and accessible Verona Weaver serving as front of house manager. I watched her literally do a song and dance to rattle of the kids’ menu for a neighboring table.

Now let’s talk about grits. Grits are easy to do poorly, easy to do passably, and hard to make enticing. So when I say that the grits at Native are a headliner, pay attention. They’re offered in two forms: as a side to the entrées, and as a stand-alone appetizer. In both cases, they’re brimming with bacon, garlic, and cheese. The app is a grit cake, hand-breaded then fried. It comes to the table as four large triangles, perfect for sharing and totally capable of being cut in half without falling to pieces. The little one at the table dunked her share in ketchup, and that was also tasty. It was so good that she ordered a bowl of the grits for her meal, as kids are prone to do. The bowl was gigantic, and she never reached the bottom. I took the remainder home, and they passed the next-day microwaving test with flying colors—I challenge readers to name any other grits in town that still maintain both taste and consistency the next day. Whatever the chef’s secret, it works. These wonder-grits beg Native to think seriously about opening for Sunday Brunch.

Grits sat alongside two of our table’s entrees with ease: the Drunken Brick Oven Duck and the Pork Chop. Much of the menu features duck, a terrific regional protein that that seldom gets its due during Atlanta’s chilly season. The pork chop weighs in at eleven ounces. It was bigger than my sizable fist, and stood majestically tall on the plate, propping up a port poached pear fan-cut so delicately I almost regretted digging into it. There were also two pastas as the table featuring enormously large and generously portioned Gulf shrimp: a Shrimp Roban with spiced rosé sauce and a Native Pasta with andouille and duck confit in an alfredo sauce. Both pastas came in deep, wide bowls with spoon helpfully perched on one side.

Between all the heavy hitters of grits, duck and pasta, we didn’t stand a chance at dessert. Everybody was stuffed, but we did muster a last stand: the sweet potato tots. While technically a side dish and not a dessert, those fresh little treasures had clearly never seen the inside of a freezer, and we all grabbed a handful out of the basket for one last good bite. When we left, the place was filling up quite nicely—especially given this was just a soft-launch and that the space is very large. There is plenty of room for everybody to do their thing, a quiet date night in one corner while fifty yards away there is a family full of loud kids, and still more room to get tipsy on that incredible porch. Don’t worry about reservations. The folks at Native will be glad to greet you and seat you promptly whenever you roll in.

Native: A Local Joint is located 340 W. Ponce de Leon Ave. in Decatur. For more information, visit the restaurant’s Facebook page.