Story by H.M. Cauley
One hundred years ago, what’s now known as the Sweet Auburn Curb Market at 209 Edgewood Ave. was more than an intown grocery. It started to resolve a problem created by a catastrophe.
Flash back to downtown circa 1917. The Great Atlanta Fire swept across the district, consuming about 2,000 homes in a 200-acre swath. While residents were struggling to recover, local farmers set up a tent, started doing business and soon found a loyal following.
It wasn’t long before a more permanent arrangement was needed. The Atlanta Women’s Club took on the project and started raising funds for a fireproof building. That red-brick structure, designed by A. Ten Eyck Brown (who also created the 1914 Fulton County courthouse), opened in May 1924 as the Municipal Market of Atlanta. Seafood, meats, vegetables, flowers, cheeses and more were offered to shoppers — including African-American buyers, who were permitted inside. But black vendors were relegated to the curb outside, a policy reflected in the market’s current name.
From that illustrious start, the market has seen its share of ups and downs. As the downtown neighborhoods around it deteriorated, so did the inventory and number of vendors. Over the years, various efforts were made to renew interest in the property. Former President Bill Clinton did his part in the 1990s, when he dropped by to discuss urban redevelopment and wound up waxing poetic about the sweet potato pies at the Sweet Auburn Bread Company stall. A rebranding effort came up with the “Sweet Auburn Curb Market” name as a nod to its roots and the surrounding Sweet Auburn neighborhood.
After serving for decades as a downtown landmark, the Sweet Avenue Curb Market made a major leap with the appointment of Pam Joiner as manager 14 years ago, as well as the trends of the farm-to-table movement. Today, it’s become not just a market but an incubator for small food businesses that have found followings beyond downtown.
Joiner’s first market encounter was as an auditor who found the operation in serious disarray. “There was no organization,” she recalls. “The building needed a lot of TLC. But it was historic, and being from New Orleans, I believe you don’t mess with history. So when they asked me to stay on as the manager, I knew it would be hard. I had no idea what managing a public market would be like, but I’d been a single mother for a long time and had learned to be a cash-flow expert.”
A $1.8 million federal grant paid for repairs and upgraded systems. But getting the right mix of vendors posed a different challenge.
“There’s a cool funkiness to it that either you get or you don’t,” Joiner says. “We also have a no-chain policy, so one of the first things I did was get rid of the Subway and Pizza Hut.”
For the crowds who elbow their way to the Panbury’s counter for meat pies or line up for a meat-and-three plate from Metro Deli, the cool funkiness translates into affordably priced, unfussy food that’s made fresh every day. At lunch, lab-coated Grady staffers stand in line with Georgia State students and state employees before taking seats at nearby metal tables. Amid the bustle are produce stands bursting with colorful, local vegetables; seafood cases packed with fish on ice; and meat stalls where butchers will chop just the right weight of ribs for a weekend barbecue.
Many companies that began there have expanded beyond the brick walls while keeping a presence at the market. Grindhouse Killer Burgers has two other city locations and a third in Athens. Arepa Mia has branched out to Avondale Estates, and Bell Street sells in Buckhead, Midtown and Inman Park.
“I’d been to these types of markets in Los Angeles and Philadelphia, and this was the closest thing,” says Grindhouse founder Alex Brounstein, who took over a corner of the market in 2009. “I didn’t know anything about the restaurant business except that I liked it, and since the space was cheap, I decided to try it myself. I didn’t even have a name, but I knew everybody likes burgers, and they don’t need to be expensive. That was in the days when food courts weren’t much of a thing, but now they’re booming.”
A weekly pop-up program provides tables for fledgling vendors to get their pies, popsicles and other products in front of the public. Many are hoping one of the 30 vendors will outgrow their spaces, making room for new ventures. But some, such as Tilapia Express owner Farrah Abdi, aren’t going anywhere.
“I live in Stone Mountain, but I love it here,” says Abdi, who for 16 years has been dishing up fried, baked and blackened fish alongside chicken wings and po’ boys. “I had a small sandwich shop on Auburn Avenue years ago, and when this space opened, I took it.”
The addition of City Provisions, a 5,500-square-foot space packed with craft goods not sold in the main market, adds another opportunity for positive growth while providing more purchasing options for buyers.
“In 2012, our revenue was $7 million; in 2016, it was $9.5 million,” says Joiner, who expects even better numbers for 2017 when the tallying is done. Through sales and special events revenue (there’s even been a wedding reception), the market can stay on a self-sustaining course.
“The city owns the land and the building, but we hold our own,” Joiner says. “And that’s without beer or wine or being open for dinner.”
Joiner lives in Fairlie-Poplar and advocates for the Curb Market even when off the clock.
“This is where my neighbors should shop,” she says. “This place has a story to tell, and I’m always telling it.”
Sweet Auburn Curb Market. 209 Edgewood Ave. 404-659-1665. municipalmarketatl.com
Insider tips
If walking to the market is not an option, you can park in the adjacent lot (parking is validated for one hour) or take the Atlanta Streetcar, which stops across from the main entrance.
To sample the sweet potato pies that Bill Clinton enjoyed, head to the Sweet Auburn Bread Company, now located about two blocks from the market at 234 Auburn Ave.
About the Author
