By RICHARD L. ELDREDGE
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 11/02/05

Jenni Girtman/Staff Friends, family and patrons, including Bob Amick (right), raise their glasses to restaurateur Tom Murphy in Virginia-Highland recently.

Potato dish brings warm memories "Hippie food!" one Murphy's chef once sneered of menu mainstay the Big Murphy. Created by Gerry Klaskala, the infamous veggie-stuffed baked potato was beloved by customers and despised by the eatery's culinarily higher-minded chefs. In "Murphy's: 25 Years of Recipes and Memories," former Murphy's chef Michael Tuohy writes: "It's a dish I will always hold against Tom. That was the bane of any chef's existence. I wanted to throw those potatoes against the wall. But they sold like there was no tomorrow." Chris Schroder, a longtime regular, speaks of the Big Murphy like an old flame. "The smell and the taste of the Big Murphy, especially on a cold winter's day, was just amazing," he recalls. Current Murphy's chef Nick Oltarsh used the low- carb craze of 2002 to finally drive a cleaver through the hearty spud's sauteed shallot and snow-pea-picking heart. — Richard L. Eldredge This recipe is among those in "Murphy's: 25 Years of Recipes and Memories." The Big Murphy Serves four 4 large baking potatoes 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted 2 teaspoons kosher salt, for baking the potatoes 12 small asparagus tips, about 2 inches long 3 ounces snow peas 1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil 4 ounces fresh morel mushrooms, cleaned and halved 1 medium shallot, finely chopped 8 cipollini onions, roasted until golden and halved or quartered Kosher salt and pepper 1 tablespoon finely snipped chives White truffle oil for serving Crème fraîche, for garnish Additional snipped chives, for garnish Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Wash and dry the potatoes, brush with melted butter and season generously with the kosher salt. On a baking sheet, bake potatoes for one hour and 15 minutes, until tender. In a small pan, coat onions with olive oil and season and roast alongside the potatoes for 35 to 45 minutes, tossing every 10 minutes or so, until golden brown. While the potatoes are cooking: Place a bowl of iced water near the stove. In a pan of salted, boiling water, immerse the asparagus tips. Blanch for 2 to 3 minutes, depending on their size, then retrieve with a slotted spoon and dump into ice water. Repeat with snow peas, blanching them only for 25 seconds. Remove from water and place on paper towels. Place a sauté pan over medium heat and add olive oil. Add and sauté the morels for 2 to 3 minutes, until aromatic and slightly crisped. Add the shallots and cook gently for 30 seconds more, but do not allow to brown. Add the asparagus, snow peas and roasted onions. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes more, or until just heated through. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and stir in the chives. As soon as the potatoes are done, use a sharp knife to make a slit in the top of each one. Using a towel to protect your fingers, pinch the potatoes to pop them open. Season the inside of the potatoes with kosher salt and pepper. Drizzle the inside of each with a little white truffle oil. Place the potatoes on individual plates and top with vegetable mixture, dividing it evenly. Place a dollop of crème fraîche on each, sprinkle with chives and serve.

After all, over 25 years and two locations, Murphy and his beloved creation had survived an embezzling accountant, an armed robbery, an unfortunate beret addiction, a safe-stealing dish washer, a future Atlanta culinary superstar who smashed up the restaurant's catering van — and one extremely pesky baked potato.

In the end, Murphy abided by the business philosophy largely responsible for his success: Hire the best people; defend your position if you think you're right but admit it if you're proven wrong; and get out of the way and let the pros do their job.

"Chris and Jan pulled and tugged on me," Murphy now concedes. "Finally, when Chris said, 'Tom, 'It's a good story and it's a story that Atlantans should know about,' I listened."

Neighborhood landmark

At its core, the history of Murphy's is the story of the growth of Virginia-Highland and one Georgia State University student's business class assignment gone wild.

Along with Moe's and Joe's, Atkins Park and George's, Murphy's has become a cornerstone of Virginia-Highland, which in the last generation has risen from a rambling zone of neglected properties to one of the most coveted ZIP codes in the city, with soaring property values and bustling shops and restaurants.

"When I'm giving someone directions to the Highlands, I always say, 'Turn right or turn left at Murphy's,' " says longtime regular Catherine Lewis, who has been known to pad across Virginia Avenue on Sunday mornings in her slippers to put in a brunch reservation. "When you start using Murphy's as a landmark, you know it's become an institution."

But in order to survive in that ever-evolving pocket of the city, Murphy's had to evolve as well.

When Tom Murphy first developed his business concept for what became Murphy's Round the Corner at 1019 Los Angeles Ave. for a class at Georgia State, he was hoping to fuse the food of a New York-style deli with the friendliness of a Southern neighborhood shop.

Murphy's professor, Dorothy Brawley, was so impressed with his business plan, she not only gave him an A, but she also went to the bank with the 21-year-old to secure a loan.

In 1980, fixer-upper houses in the Vi-Hi 'hood could be had for $45,000-$60,000. Some of those same houses now have price tags of $450,000 — those that haven't been bulldozed for prime real estate.

At the time, pitchers of suds at Moe's and Joe's, loaded hot dogs at Atkins Park and burgers with beer-battered onion rings at George's were among the culinary options in the area. Capo's famed Chicken Diablo and a side of fettuccine Alfredo was considered a high-end dinner.

But Murphy, his family and friends were still so excited by their small addition to the neighborhood, they threw a pre-opening party at the store.

Subsequently, they were too hung over to actually open the business on Nov. 30, 1980. It officially bowed, a few aspirins later, on Dec. 1.

In the basement deli's early years, an often beret-clad Murphy and steady girlfriend Susan Lawler worked long hours together at the business, serving up family-oriented pasta night on Mondays and to-go Reuben sandwiches for $2.25.

"I knew Susan was the girl I wanted to go to the chapel with," explains Murphy. "I figured the best way to ruin all that was if we maintained a working relationship."

So he fired her and then married her. Three children — Patrick, Kevin and Katherine — followed.

Parade of talent

As a CNN employee, future "Today" show host Katie Couric was also a Murphy's regular. The eatery has had its share of future chef superstars in the kitchen as well.

Aria's Gerry Klaskala, Alon's Bakery's Alon Balshan, Pura Vida's Hector Santiago, Table 1280's Shaun Doty and Woodfire Grill's Michael Tuohy all logged long hours at the cramped Murphy's stove.

Doty, who catered for Murphy fresh out of culinary school in 1991, left a particularly memorable mark — on the restaurant's catering van. He crashed it and had to tell Murphy, a man who intimidated him terribly.

"To this day," says Doty, "I have no idea why Tom didn't fire me on the spot. "

Murphy knows. "Shaun's a good guy, and he was honest with me about what happened," he explains. "That matters. It was an accident. Things happen. Even then, Shaun's talent was apparent."

No middle ground

Only once in his 25 years in Virginia-Highland has Murphy felt unwelcome.

In 1990, Murphy was told the building on Los Angeles Avenue was being sold and he had to find another location — which turned out to be the restaurant's present spot, on the corner of Virginia and North Highland, about a block away.

Commercial growth was becoming a concern and about 400 people showed up to a neighborhood planning meeting, many of them against allowing the Murphy's move.

"It almost broke my heart," Murphy recalls. "We couldn't find any middle ground. I would walk out of those meetings feeling so disheartened."

Finally, at the pivotal zoning meeting, Murphy's loyal regulars mobilized. The tide turned when a 70-year-old resident and Murphy's diner stood up and told the crowd: "I am older than 85 percent of you. If y'all don't like it, move out!"

Three hundred and fifty neighbors voted in favor of the move.

Many of those same folks turned up last week for the restaurant's red-carpeted 25th anniversary dinner.

For the evening's Share Our Strength fund-raiser, Murphy managed to talk Doty, Tuohy, Santiago, Klaskala and Balshan out of their own busy kitchens to whip up one last Murphy's meal. Even Dorothy Brawley, his old Georgia State professor, showed up. (Brawley now teaches at Kennesaw State and uses Murphy's business model as part of her curriculum.)

Catherine Lewis (sans slippers) and her husband, John Companiotte, were there to stroll the red carpet outside the entrance, where they've waited many Sundays for a table.

"Nobody ever minds the wait," Lewis explains. "It's a social hour where maybe 50 or 75 people are all catching up with each other, reading the Sunday paper and drinking coffee."

Surrounded by an elbow-immoblizing crowd of regulars, family and friends, a grateful Murphy raised a glass of champagne to the crowd and said: "Not only is this restaurant a reflection of this neighborhood and all the changes we've been through, our success has everything to do with everyone here. Thank you, and here's to another 25!"

The sound of clinking glasses no doubt drifted over to Los Angeles Avenue.

"Murphy's: 25 Years of Recipes and Memories" (Schroder Media, $24.95) arrives in stores this week and is available at the restaurant, amazon.com, Chapter 11 bookstores, Barnes & Noble and Cooks Warehouse.