in 'middle of nowhere'
'Best restaurant up and down the west or east coast'
said visitors from Oregon who dined in Sumatra
Robert and Diane Tucker started the restaurant three years ago, and recently doubled its size.
 Grilled grouper provided enough to take home. |
This is a story of a restaurant making a name by word of mouth, in tiny Sumatra, Florida, where beekeeping is an industry and most of the people live quietly out in the woods. |
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| _______________________________________________________________________________________ By Michael E. Abrams Three months after Diane and Robert Tucker opened their
little
restaurant, more than 900 bicyclists came tumbling through, and had to
be
fed. This restaurant, which by then had a reputation for good food,
also earned a further reputation for pleasing customers. |
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| "We fed every one of those
people," said Mrs. Tucker, who organized friends and neighbors to help.
"We fed all of them from 11 to 2:30." You could sense the pride of
accomplishment. To her motherly chagrin, bikers can't eat large meals,
but they loved the food which they carried to the fire department and
the park. Bicycles inundated this community. Says Robert Tucker, "that really was a fun day." Sumatra, elevation 26 feet, is truly "in the middle of nowhere." The Redline gas and grocery store and a bridge over a creek are signals you have arrived, unless you are a hunter, a botanist, a wildlife officer, or someone else with a fishing rod and a GPS. The good part is, Sumatra is on the way to St. George Island for beachgoers or sightseers who want to avoid the traffic on U.S. 98. Statistics for Sumatra come up blank on the computer. The Apalachicola river flow nearby is 25,000 cubic feet per second. It's the western boundary of Liberty County. Sumatra, amid the pines and oaks, is home to enough people to support two churches, a voter precinct and a post office. People said it wouldn't work Most residents live down the side roads in the woods. You could pass through town and miss everything. Most native Floridians have never heard of it. Suffice to say, it's south of Wilma, in Liberty County southwest of Tallahassee. For native plant enthusiasts, the area is crawling with rare carnivorous plants and wild terrestrial orchids. Hunters love Liberty County.
Restaurant has doubled in size, going on fourth year They had been partners in a restaurant in Panacea, she said. They knew what it took. Robert, from an old and established family going back many generations in this area of Florida, had been in the oystering business. The family knew fresh fish. They had a family plan. A daughter, grandson and son have all been cooks in the restaurant, a renovated grocery store. Robert Tucker's granddaughter is a waitress. The restaurant doubled in size recently for banquets and happy occasions. "Word of mouth has kept us alive," says Mrs. Tucker, who keeps the restaurant open from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., with Mondays and Tuesdays closed to the general public but reserved for larger events. Growing up in a family of six children, Mrs. Tucker said all the kids learned how to cook. She uses a lot of seasoning in the fish, and some of the dishes have a distinctive tang. The grilled grouper is fresh and flaky. Warm and tender hushpuppies are a staple. All meals are served on flowered china. Prices are reasonable. Simple decor, the chairs and tables are durable and comfortable, but no one suffers from lack of scenery when the food is brought out. You can eat out on the screened porch if you like. It is well-remembered that some people from Blountstown said one day that the food was the best food they ever had. "Lotsa other people heard them say it. They were just amazed at how sweet the food was," said Kyle, the Tucker's grandson. There is no annoying background music. The restaurant is whisk brush clean, and the grill and double oven are stainless steel. Dishes are hand-scrubbed by her grandson in a three-compartment sink, and done with more care than in an automatic dishwasher. The Tuckers show off how clean the kitchen is, even after the lunch crowd. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness," says Diane Tucker. 'We couldn't believe it'
The restaurant is an hour from Tallahassee. Although there is a gas station in Sumatra, plan to have gasoline. And bring a cell phone. Hwy. 65 is not a good place to get stuck. The Liberty County Sheriff's Department in Bristol should be your first phone call. For dinner at one table were seated John McKinnon and David Horton, growers of award-winning orchids and sellers of parrots, who live in the area. They once brought some pretty sophisticated big city orchid judges all the way from a show in Tallahassee to eat here, and the judges wanted to know if they could come all the way back to Sumatra the next night. "We couldn't believe it when someone told us there was a restaurant here," said David. "We came down and found it and we have eaten here ever since." The restaurant also saves a 35 to 40 mile drive to the coast. "We have people from DeFuniak Springs who come up here to eat mullet," says Robert Tucker. "People from Oregon said they drove all the way down the west coast and the east coast from California to Florida and they ate at every seafood place they saw, and this was the best food they ate on their entire trip." |
'She knows how to cook,' says Robert Tucker, of his wife. 'She is one of the best cooks in the world.' 
 Robert, Diane Tucker, grandson Kyle, daughter Debbie, and great niece.
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