If you lived in Atlanta or just passed through between the late sixties and the early 2020s, you knew the name. Pittypat's Porch wasn't just a restaurant; it was a vibe, a time capsule, and—let’s be honest—a bit of a polarizing fever dream for "Gone with the Wind" enthusiasts.
Tucked away at 25 Andrew Young International Boulevard, it stood as a defiant, lace-curtained middle finger to the glass-and-steel modernization of Downtown Atlanta. For over fifty years, people flocked there for the kitsch. They came for the rocking chairs. They came for the mint juleps that could probably strip paint off a barn door.
But then, the doors closed.
The silence that followed wasn't just about a business failing. It was about the slow death of a certain kind of "Old South" theatricality that Atlanta eventually outgrew. Honestly, looking back at Pittypat's Porch in Atlanta Georgia today reveals a lot about how our tastes in food and history have shifted. It’s a story of cast iron skillets, health department battles, and a character named Aunt Pittypat who became the face of a dining institution.
Why the Ghost of Scarlett O’Hara Ran a Restaurant
The restaurant was named after Aunt Pittypat Hamilton, the fluttery, perpetually nervous aunt of Scarlett O’Hara. If you remember the book or the 1939 movie, Pittypat was the one who famously fainted whenever things got too stressful.
Opened in 1967, the place leaned hard into that aesthetic.
Walking in was weird. You entered into a bar designed to look like a massive antebellum porch. There were actual rocking chairs where you’d sit and wait for your table, sipping on "Moonshine Punch" or "Ankle Breakers." The latter was a terrifying concoction of 151-proof rum, cherry brandy, and lime juice. Legend has it Stonewall Jackson broke his ankle after too many—hence the name.
The walls were covered in stills from the film. Life-sized cutouts of Rhett Butler and Scarlett stood by the door for photo ops. For tourists coming in for conventions at the nearby AmericasMart or the World Congress Center, it was exactly what they thought Georgia was supposed to look like. Locals, however, often viewed it with a mix of nostalgia and "I only go there when my aunt from Iowa is in town."
🔗 Read more: Floating Lantern Festival 2025: What Most People Get Wrong
The Menu: Fried Chicken and the "Seven-Carat" Salad Bar
The food at Pittypat’s Porch in Atlanta Georgia was unapologetically heavy. This wasn't the place for a light Caesar salad or a quinoa bowl.
You went for the Southern Fried Chicken.
One of the most unique things about the service was how they brought the chicken out. It was served in small cast iron skillets—souvenirs made by the Birmingham Stove and Range (BSR) company. For a long time, guests could actually take these skillets home. If you find one at a thrift store today with "Pittypat’s Porch" stamped on the bottom, you’ve found a piece of Atlanta culinary history.
Then there was the "Sideboard."
That’s what they called the salad bar, but it wasn't a normal salad bar. It was a chaotic, delicious spread of Southern staples:
- Pickled watermelon rind (a polarizing classic)
- Black-eyed pea salad
- Creamy chicken salad
- Sweet potato salad
- A revolving door of relishes
It felt like a church potluck in the basement of a Baptist church in 1954. Some people loved the authenticity; others were just confused by the amount of mayonnaise involved in the vegetable section.
The Controversy and the Fall
You can't talk about Pittypat's without talking about the health inspections. It’s the elephant in the room.
💡 You might also like: Finding Your Way: What the Tenderloin San Francisco Map Actually Tells You
In 2016 and 2017, the restaurant made headlines for all the wrong reasons. The Georgia Department of Public Health slapped them with some pretty dismal scores—a 51 at one point and a 69 later on. There were reports of flies, grease buildup, and issues with the walk-in coolers.
The owner at the time, Guy Thomson, fought back. He argued the issues were minor and easily fixed. He even refused to close voluntarily after one failed inspection, insisting that the "minor" violations didn't warrant a shutdown. While they eventually got their scores back up into the 80s and 90s, the damage to the reputation was real.
In a city like Atlanta, which was quickly becoming a global foodie destination with James Beard-nominated chefs, a dusty "Gone with the Wind" themed basement with health code issues was a hard sell.
Then 2020 happened.
The pandemic was the final blow for many downtown institutions that relied on convention foot traffic. While some restaurants adapted with robust takeout or outdoor dining, the very essence of Pittypat’s—the crowded porch, the communal sideboard, the basement atmosphere—was incompatible with a socially distanced world.
Is it Gone Forever?
Basically, yes.
The restaurant officially shuttered its doors, and the space has since seen significant changes. It joined the ranks of other lost Atlanta legends like Dante’s Down the Hatch (the one with the crocodiles) and Mary Mac’s Tea Room’s original rivals.
📖 Related: Finding Your Way: What the Map of Ventura California Actually Tells You
The closure marked the end of an era where "thematic dining" was enough to carry a business. Today, Atlanta's Southern food scene has moved toward "Modern South" or "Gullah-Geechee" influences—places like Miller Union or Virgil’s Gullah Kitchen. These spots focus on the actual roots and soul of the food rather than the Hollywood-stylized version of a plantation porch.
If you’re looking to capture that old feeling, you won't find it at 25 Andrew Young anymore. The rocking chairs are gone. The "Ankle Breakers" are a memory.
How to Find a "Pittypat" Experience Today
If you’re a fan of the history and want to see what's left of that era, there are still ways to piece it together.
First, check eBay or local estate sales for those BSR cast iron skillets. They are highly collectible and arguably the best thing to come out of the kitchen. They are heavy, seasoned by decades of fried chicken, and practically indestructible.
Second, visit the Margaret Mitchell House in Midtown. It gives you the actual history of the woman who wrote the book that inspired the restaurant. It’s less "themed" and more factual, which is a nice palate cleanser.
Third, if you want the food without the movie sets, head to The Colonnade on Cheshire Bridge Road. It has been open since 1927 and serves the kind of fried chicken and yeast rolls that Pittypat’s used to pride itself on, minus the julep-fueled theatricality.
The story of Pittypat's Porch in Atlanta Georgia is a reminder that cities change. We grow out of our old costumes. Sometimes a restaurant is just a place to eat, but sometimes it’s a mirror reflecting what a city thinks of itself—or what it wants tourists to think. Pittypat's was a caricature of the South that worked for a long time, until it didn't.
Your Atlanta History Checklist
- Search for the Skillets: Look for "BSR Pittypat's Porch" on vintage sites if you want the ultimate souvenir.
- Explore Downtown: Walk past the old location to see how the Luckie-Marietta district has evolved into a tech and entertainment hub.
- Support Local: If you want Southern food today, try the independent spots in Summerhill or the Westside that are defining the new Atlanta.
The porch is closed, but the conversation about how we remember the South is still very much open. Don't let the kitsch fool you; the history of these places is as complex as the ingredients in a 151-proof rum punch.