photograph by bruce vanwyngarden
Robert C. Smith serves a classic Maker’s Mark Old Fashioned.
A 1970s rock ballad hangs in the air. It sounds like it might be Journey, maybe a deep album cut, but I can’t be sure. Nobody’s really listening to it. Three men are sitting at the bar discussing who was a better guitarist, Stevie Ray Vaughan or B.B. King. They are serious about this, not to be deterred, even by their waitress, who approaches with three large baskets filled with wings that look like they could be life-altering. Within a few seconds, food wins over art, and the men settle into their chicken, leaving B.B. and Stevie Ray to await a verdict.
It’s mid-afternoon on a Monday at Huey’s Midtown and the place still has a bit of a crowd, possibly lingering from lunch, possibly just here for an afternoon cocktail. I’m in the latter group, waiting to meet legendary bartender Robert C. Smith, who has some stories of his own, I’ve been told.
He emerges from the kitchen area. I recognize him because we exchanged Facebook messages to set up this interview. He’s got a tousled head of gray hair, wears a pair of distinctive round glasses, and has an easy smile. We find a seat in a quiet corner.
“So, you’ve been working here a while,” I say.
“I started here a couple days after 9/11,” he says. “That’s how I remember it. But my association with Huey’s began long before that, because I became friends back in the 1970s with Thomas Boggs, the guy who made Huey’s what it is today.”
Boggs, who died in 2008, was a true force in the Memphis restaurant business. After beginning at Huey’s as a waiter, he eventually bought into the popular eatery, expanded it into a local chain, and later groomed his daughters to run the business. Boggs — who gained a bit of rock-star fame in the 1960s as a drummer for Alex Chilton’s Box Tops — was also known for his generous spirit.
“Looking back, this kind of job has afforded me so many opportunities and adventures, and has introduced me to so many great people. I think everyone should do this work at some point.” — Robert C. Smith
“Thomas and I both worked for corporate Friday’s,” says Smith. “And Friday’s, in those days, was something else — nothing like the restaurants they are today. Every Thursday at midnight was ‘New Year’s Eve,’ with party favors, whistles, you name it. Things were pretty crazy back then. This place — Huey’s — also used to be a hell of a late-night watering hole before Thomas came in and turned it into a real restaurant.”
“So things used to get pretty lively in here?”
“Yeah, I remember most nights about 3 a.m. the bartenders would start trying to run people out, but it wasn’t easy,” Smith says. “They used to have a cow’s head mounted on the wall over there, and on several occasions, I saw a bartender fire a gun into it, just to get people’s attention.”
In the late 1980s, after his daughter was born, Smith moved to Nashville and earned a teaching degree in science and math.
“I lasted one year. I learned teaching wasn’t for me,” he says. “Then I got a job at the Bluebird Cafe, where I got to know a lot of great singer-songwriters and performers. It was a real eye-opening experience. Looking back, this kind of job has afforded me so many opportunities and adventures, and has introduced me to so many great people. I think everyone should do this work at some point.”
Nowadays, Smith is a part-timer. “I work three half-days —Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Lunchtime, basically. They’ve been very good to me here. I can work and I have the opportunity to take off and go anywhere when I want to.”
“Your shift is over, so you could take off now,” I point out. “But you’re supposed to make me a drink.”
“I’m aware,” he says. “I’m going to make you a Maker’s Mark Old Fashioned — solid and simple.”
The classic Old Fashioned is made by muddling sugar with bitters and water, adding whiskey, and garnishing with an orange slice or zest, and maybe a cocktail cherry. Smith follows that recipe to a T. The drink tastes just like it should, and lubricates our ensuing conversation — about Memphis music, Memphis bars, and what turn out to be many mutual friends in common.
As I finally rise to leave, Smith mentions that he’s just finished reading an autobiography by his friend Bill Sanderson, a Memphis actor known for his roles in Deadwood, Blade Runner, and perhaps best-known for playing Larry, who has two brothers named Darryl, in the Newhart show from the 1980s.
“I love the title of his book,” says Smith. “Maybe because I can relate. It’s called, Yes, I’m That Guy.”
Huey’s has 10 locations in the Memphis area. Smith works at the Midtown branch, 1927 Madison.
