“My finger can always tell,” he says. “If it doesn’t sink in, it’s not ready.”on Atlanta’s west side, Furman cooks meat the old-fashioned way: over split logs of oak and pecan wood burning hot above layers of coals. It’s a breezeless afternoon and the smokehouse is filled with a thick fragrant haze that leaves me sweating in a way some might describe as profuse. But Furman seems unfazed by the heat. Years as a welder have left his hands calloused, nearly immune to burns.
“Yeah, that happened,” Furman says. He shrugs now, but the loss was devastating. The couple had put everything into the restaurant; Nikki had just quit her job as a property manager. “That was the only income we had,” she recalls. “We both cried for the first three hours, and then we looked at each other and said, we can’t keep crying about it.”
As far as Furman is concerned, this is just the beginning. Eventually he hopes to go national with B's Cracklin' in as many as ten cities. But with one key focus: to have black owners.Bryan Furman’s story is one of daily grinds, of heading to the smokehouse at 5 a.m. every morning, of stoking the coals, piling the wood, setting the whole hogs on to smoke.
Glad to see the Atlanta location reopened after the fire! Keep up the deliciousness!
I love this photo - it tells a double story - a story of pain sorrow and suffering and yet victory compassion love and understand most important - WISDOM .. in Jesus Name!🙏🙌📜LOVIT🌠
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