Noshin' at the Tupelo Honey Cafe | Plus, how to get great service in busy restaurants 23 Mar., 2010 By the time I got to Asheville, I was nearing the end of my journey and the bottom of my wallet. The last thing on my mind was spending money: it was beautiful outside, and there were free things to do everywhere. But. When I'd posted on Facebook that I was coming to town, no fewer than three people told me I just had to visit the Tupelo Honey Cafe . So I checked their website, and instantly fell in love: "Tupelo Honey Café opened in downtown Asheville in 2000, an early pioneer in the farm to fork movement and an active advocate for the independent restaurant landscape that pervades the city. Our food is fresh, made from scratch, sassy and scrumptious. Our cuisine salutes our love of Southern traditions at the table, but like the good people of Asheville, marches to its own drum. The result is a unique riff on Southern favorites." tupelohoneycafe.com I was convinced but I wasn't alone. On a sunny Sunday afternoon, the waiting list was an hour long. After hemming and hawing and assessing my food stash (contents: 10 saltines), I decided to go for it anyway. By the time I finally got a seat at the counter, I was starved. It took me about thirty seconds to pick out the Charleston Chicken Sandwich: "grilled marinated free-range chicken breast on sourdough with melted havarti, romaine lettuce and cranberry mayonnaise". Free range? Cranberry? Havarti? Yes, I could dig it. While I waited for the food, I checked out the back of the store where Tupelo Honey Cafe hawks their homestyle wares: preserves, pickles, salsa, honey, t-shirts, aprons and all sorts of mini-advertisements for the restaurant. I've visited plenty of farm-to-fork restaurants, and this one may be the best I've seen at self-marketing. There's nothing wrong with it: the food in those jars is probably delicious, though I question whether the $10 tupelo honey had to come from Florida or if it's produced locally. Either way, it's nice to see a restaurant built on ethics that also happens to be incredibly busy. Some of that is surely due to good marketing, but the real reason for its popularity is this: That sandwich was so good, I found myself eating slower and slower with each bite to savor it more completely. The potatoes were light and un-greasy; the flavors were perfectly balanced; the chicken was juicy and rich; and let's be honest here, I'm always happier eating dead animals when I know they've lived a good life. I found myself silently thanking the chicken for its delicious contribution. Thank you, chicken. I will never forget you. I stopped eating halfway through, not because I was full. I stopped so I could take the rest home and taste it again later. On another topic, I made a discovery there in the Tupelo Honey Cafe, one which I'd like to share with you now. If you're going to a busy restaurant and want great service, bring a camera. Take a few photos of the menu, the kitchen, the food. No sooner had I taken the above photo, when a server (not even my server) appeared at my elbow. Later when I stopped eating and lifted my napkin from my lap, it took approximately three seconds for someone to take my food away to be boxed up. Now, I'm not saying the service before my camera-flash was bad, because it was awesome. But wow, it sure improved once I appeared to be some sort of food critic or travel writer. Which, it just so happens, I am. But even if you're not, try this out sometime. I can't guarantee it'll work, but I personally will do it againand probably back it up with a stellar review, just like the one I've given the Tupelo Honey Cafe. Everybody wins. Okay, that's it! I could talk about Asheville for weeks, but it's time to move on. Next stop: sunny Tennessee, where I get down on The Farm.