Photograph by Martha Williams
The east side of Atlanta is a tough place to open up a barbecue spot. Sgt. Wyatt’s Country BBQ in Kirkwood is a family barbecue haven with divine pork; Georgia Boy BBQ (in the former Anna’s location in Kirkwood) serves up some of the best wings I’ve had; Fox Bros. is a stone’s throw away on DeKalb Avenue; Daddy D’z BBQ Joynt on Memorial Drive has some of the best plates and sides you can get in town. The area is crowded with staples of the game, but a competitor might argue it’s the place to be, a battleground of sorts in which to carve out their barbecue crown.
Gene’s BBQ opened in late July in the East Lake neighborhood, in the same building as Poor Hendrix and Mix’d Up Burger. Avery Cottrell started Gene’s as a pop-up at places such as Kimball House and Poor Hendrix, before he partnered with John Ward of Victory Brands and the owners of Kimball House to open up a permanent location. Cottrell has flooded his debut restaurant with creativity. Named after his orange and white cat, whose cartoon face is plastered on the website, Gene’s offers Cottrell’s take on Viet-Cajun and Texas-style barbecue, all set at a Flora-Bama party in Pensacola.
When I walked in on a Friday night in September, I started to feel like Friday. I was hit with a disco ball reflecting Christmas lights strung across the ceiling and the bar. A 20-foot red alligator hanging from the ceiling, neon signs, a retro jukebox, sidewalk newspaper boxes, and more folk-art decor that Cottrell, Ward, and Matt Christison (of Kimball House) collected over five years make the space feel like it’s been lived in for that long. At the counter, I reveled in the festivities, and ordered a Genesicle, a zero-proof frozen coconut-cream cocktail (I opted to add rum for an extra charge) with orange and vanilla flavors that hits in a place like this. The drink menu is expansive, with a mix of sophisticated and simple, fun frozen drinks, classic cocktails, wine, and cheap beer. The spacious interior has four-tops, booths with red banquettes, and a few large round tables for the family.
Photograph by Martha Williams
I took a seat outside on the covered patio, where there are half a dozen tables with colorful oilcloth table covers. My view was a sight to behold—a four-door, hot-pink smoker from Primitive Pits (based in Cumming) that serves up brisket, pork, chicken, and ribs. As I sat, Genesicle in hand, Cottrell’s vision felt ambitious but effective.
After I’d ordered, an attentive and quick staff delivered the food in paper boats on trays. Every meat plate comes with flour tortillas—as is the custom in South Texas—and pickled vegetables, for a choose-your-own-barbecue-adventure. I ordered the sliced brisket, which was smoked tender, but lacked the bold, complex spice that you might find in Texas. The plate made up for it. I built a bulging brisket taco with pickles, pickled red onions, mint, and cilantro, dousing it all with Boss Saus, a sweet barbecue sauce with red chili flakes for the right kick. And they don’t skimp on the tortillas, serving you four of them, warm, for the journey.
The ultimate test of barbecue for myself and my bank account is the pulled pork sandwich. At any barbecue joint in Georgia, this is the cheapest entree on the menu and likely the most ordered. Gene’s version costs $14, with a choice of one side, which, in this economy, satisfies. The pulled pork came on a sesame seed bun with slaw-topped meat doused in Smokin’ Wet Sauce, a vinegar-based barbecue sauce too hot to call Carolina. The meat itself left something to be desired; the pork was mushy, without much bark to the bite, even as the slaw and sauce gave the sandwich the boldness it needed.
Where Gene’s really shone was in the Viet-Cajun side of the menu. The summer menu had smoked-mushroom tacos, topped with pickled fennel, toum (garlic sauce), and pomegranate—a staple of Vietnamese cuisine—packed with a complex and rich flavor. The mushrooms were crispy and succulent, leaving my girlfriend and me with “taco hand,” a phrase we coined for a great and dripping taco. Marinated Cajun crab claws come in a tangy chili-vinegar sauce. The cucumber salad was fresh and topped with mint and cilantro; fish sauce vinegar packed umami into each crisp bite. Gene’s wings come Hooters- or Daytona-style, with a grilled, crunchy finish to the smoked chicken. I devoured the fish sauce caramel wings (you can also get Buffalo or lemon pepper), which were sweet and sour and paired well with jalapeño ranch.
Photograph by Martha Williams
For dessert, I opted for the banana pudding with two vanilla wafers and a Biscoff cookie set in the middle. The sweet custard was rich and creamy, and before long, it disappeared in front of me. I also got the most infamous menu item—the Mountain Dew Jell-O shot—and, pleasantly, it tasted exactly as the soda does in the can.
As with any debut, Cottrell’s hopes and dreams fill Gene’s, and his ambition pays off with a vibrant atmosphere that’s infectious. While the barbecue can improve, it stands out among the east side of Atlanta’s crowd, with its unique Viet-Cajun flair that gives the food an intensity that will bring me back. That, and the fact that I can bank on a Flora-Bama party every time I step through the door.
This article appears in our November 2024 issue.
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