Royal Ranch House: How we got a great meat and three...

And had our faith in humanity restored.

I write about food quite a bit. There are always good stories around food and food culture, but sometimes, something comes out of nowhere that takes you quite by surprise. That’s exactly what happened yesterday.

Ricky and I had headed out to try the Royal Ranch House in Irondale, a new meat-and-three in an old Krystal. It’s owned by the same folks who own the Ranch House in Vestavia and Makarios on Southside – Abdo Obeid and Hafed Mohamed. It’s been a long time since I ate at the original Ranch House, but we eat at Makarios all the time and always love it.

Nevertheless, we were all hepped up about a good meat and three, so off we went. When we pulled into the parking lot, a man pulled into the space next to us in an older, black Toyota truck. I noticed he had the window rolled down. He got out and went in before we did, because I was wandering around in the parking lot to get the perfect restaurant photo for y’all.

Going through the line, I was still busy snapping pictures and making mental notes. Royal Ranch House is a bit of sensory overload if you love a meat and three like we do. There are six or seven meat choices and a dozen or so vegetables, plus dessert. (You’ll note it’s not called a “protein and three”...something about being asked what “protein” I want just grosses me out.) In addition to all that, a big menu behind the steam table touts wings, fish, shrimp, “exotic” bakers (that’s a baked potato), and several daily specials that include gyros and birria tacos. I think it would be hard for someone to not find something they liked on that list.

So, as you can see, my mind was racing to think about what I wanted to order without holding up the line. I settled for a meat and two, so did Ricky, and we decided to split a peach cobbler. When I got to the cash register at the end of the steam table, I was shocked to look at the tiny screen and see that my bill was $66 and change. Just when I was about to ask the woman at the cash register why the total was so high, a man standing to my left said, “Don’t worry about it. Y’all’s lunch is on me.”

It was the man who had parked next to us.

“Why?” I asked him, out of shock, really. In hindsight, it was probably a little rude.

But the man, who we came to find out was named Chris, just smiled and said in a very quiet voice, “I’ve been blessed in my life, and I just want to share my blessings.”

Of course, we thanked him profusely. I imagine, since lunches are in the $10-$13 range, he had bought some lunches before ours, and because it took him a while to come and sit down, I’m sure he bought lunches for some of the people behind us.

When he did come into the dining room in front of the former Krystal, he sat alone by the window and quietly prayed. After he finished, I invited him to join Ricky and me for lunch, but he politely declined, ate his lunch, and when I looked up from my plate a little while later, he was gone.

There are a lot of really, really bad things happening in our world right now, some of them right here in our own city. It’s easy to get downhearted, to be overwhelmed by doom and gloom. It’s hard not to think that people have just plain abandoned all sense of kindness and generosity, that everyone you meet is a greedy, selfish, mean MF who would just as soon kick a puppy than help their neighbor – especially if that neighbor looks, loves, or lives differently.

Then one day, you feel like you need some home cookin’, roll through a line completely oblivious to everything and everyone around you so you can get those good ‘Gram shots, and a perfect stranger buys your lunch.

That tells me, my friends, that all is not lost. There is still hope.

p.s. In case you were wondering what we ate, see the photos below. Every mouthful was delicious. Note that the cornbread muffin was sweet, which doesn’t bother me like it does some folks. They give you real butter, too, and not “whipped spread.” If I had known I would be eating with plasticware, I might have made a different choice than the ribs, which would have been fork-tender with a stainless steel fork. The greens have a lot of good ham hock in them, and the mac and cheese is just like your Granny made. Things that are supposed to be greasy in that deliciously Southern way were just that, and things that aren’t supposed to be greasy weren’t. And don’t miss out on the jammy, cinnamon-y peach cobbler.