For more than 20 years, my life has revolved around a beastly feeling: a noisy, ill-behaved stainless steel reach-in refrigerator of the kind often found in restaurant kitchens. I need another freezer on the side. With the faithful Sub-Zero, you will rarely have any problems and ice will form next to the bucket. But I never would have discovered James Virgil if it weren't for the giant Victory Latone that rules my kitchen.
Commonly known as “Mr.” V' Virgil runs a restaurant supply store that sells primarily used commercial appliances, and has attracted an avid following of designers and chefs to his Mercedes-Benz facility in the shadow of his stadium. . I've spent hours squeezing myself through Mr. V's jam-packed aisles of restaurant equipment and store supplies, where bar coolers, margarita machines, glass-door refrigerators, and fryers are replaced almost daily.
When I first met Mr. V, he gave me a set of red, white, and blue logo pens and flashed me a contagious, playful smile. Looking at the photos in his office, I realized that the man whose expertise it was to bring my dead refrigerator back to life (or find one just like it) was living a completely different and different life. It reminded me of the fact that Music producers, actors, comedians, etc.
The Mississippi native ran a club in Chicago before moving to Atlanta. But his real rise to fame came during the heyday of TBS when he opened Mr. V's Figure 8 on Campbellton Road in Atlanta. Ted Turner's stations broadcast his commercials (and his face) all over the world. For nearly a decade, Muhammad Ali, Andrew Young, Tina Turner, Lionel Richie, Eddie Murphy and others followed a classy and strict dress code, as photos and videos from the '70s and '80s attest. It has been proven that he hung out in a community that was advertised as having one. . At the airport, limousines picked up celebrities and the party continued throughout the night.
It's incredibly easy to speak to Mr. V directly. On the phone, he seems to think I have too much of a French accent to be easily understood, and I think it's his Mississippi accent and his age (admittedly in his early 80s) that make him think I'm too French to understand him. I would never say that it is difficult to understand. When I asked him if I should text or email him to interview him, he said, “I don’t know. Just show up. he goes to work ” my type of man,I thought. Still, I managed to miss him because I came to the store after 2pm on a Saturday when it closed.
I spoke with one of his oldest friends, event producer and booking agent Don Rivers, to find out just how important Mr. V, known locally as the godfather of disco, once was to Atlanta's social scene. Told. On a different note, chef David Sweeney said he received a stipend from the city to open Dynamic Dish, the best vegan restaurant in the city's history, on Edgewood Avenue. When I went to Mr. V to buy equipment with the money, Mr. V said with a deadpan expression:
In addition to selling and reselling home appliances, Mr. V also custom builds food trucks with his grandson, including the one that launched Slutty Vegan into the stratosphere. For over a decade, Mr. V has been telling us all that he is writing a book about his life. I like to hang out in his cluttered office, where young musicians work on computers. Or he likes to wander around his showroom to see all the greasy pots, pans and stoves surrounded by more exotic accessories. I diligently check the store's website.
My commercial refrigerator, which had been abandoned for 15 years, was miraculously brought back to life by Chef Freezer. But I still like exploring his Mr. V facility, which is open six days a week. As I go, I like to reflect on the fact that unlike influencers, whose main talent is promoting things they know little about, we used to rely on our own charisma and wisdom. think. James Virgil still does it.
This article will be published in the April 2024 issue.
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