Chattanooga, welcome to Bona Fide.

The Southside restaurant nearly one year in the making opened this weekend to the public, and the public responded. Bona Fide's been booked solid ever since the announcement came — we're opening — two weeks ago.

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It's easy to see why.

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For months, brown paper has covered the walls of the restaurant formerly known as Flying Squirrel + Ernest Chinese, tucked behind Niedlov's Bakery. Inside, the big inhale: building, renovating, creating, crashing, recommitting. Now, the exhale and invitation: come see for yourself.

"We wanted to breathe a little fresh life in this place," said co-founder Garth Poe, who, along with Chef Joe Milekovic Jr., had the original idea for Bona Fide.

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The pair first looked at this building last July.

"To be open in 11 months," said Garth, former beverage director at Easy Bistro, Little Coyote and Main St. Meats. "It's crazy."

The space is dramatic — the Flying Squirrel's bar and booth remain — but doesn't intimidate.

"It's the same skeleton but she is definitely wearing different clothes," he said.  

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We had corner bar seats for Thursday's soft opening, less than 24 hours before Friday's dinner service began.

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People seemed so happy to be there; we saw tons of old friends. It felt almost, strangely, like a homecoming on (soft) opening night. Bona Fide carried the jazzy, juicy opening night buzz that says, in more ways than one — like when the county mayor and Genesis the Greykid walk through the door within minutes of each other — This Is The Place To Be.

"Have you seen this in the evening light?" Garth said. "It is a whole vibe once the sun goes down."

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There was a steady-as-she-goes confidence; the place — design, menu and most of all, people — was already high-stepping with a poise some restaurants never reach.

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We started with an Aperitivio, sparkling with blood orange amaro and citrus.

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Then, the Tuna Crudo, dressed with olives, lemons, tomatoes and olive oil.

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Gem lettuce, with cucumbers, pickled peppers, hemp seeds and green goddess dressing.

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Carnaroli Rice Risotto, with maitake mushrooms, chicken jus and piave. (Had to look it up, too. It's a cheese: Italian, protected, from cow's milk.)

This risotto got eaten before the camera could have its bite.

And Steelhead Trout with eggplant caponata, peaches, marigolds and pine nuts.

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The restaurant was launched by the under-40 supergroup of Chef Milenkovic, the former executive chef at Easy Bistro, Garth, Jared Padovani, Rachel Holland and Estela Felipe, with threads connecting them all to foundational restaurants in Chattanooga: Easy Bistro, Little Coyote, Niedlov's, Main St. Meats and Boneyard. And, for Estela, Paris, France.

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The Bona Fide team emerged from kitchens and bakeries with a sum total of three Michelins and three James Beard awards, the talented inheritors of what the Niels, Lindleys, Josh Carter, the Gentry brothers, Dorris Shober and others created. You can't see Bona Fide without, say, also seeing the influence of 212 Market.

And this is definitely next gen.

Head held high, Bona Fide enters Chattanooga's culinary scene at the perfect time. Chattanooga's restaurant scene — we've argued it's never been better — now becomes even richer because of Bona Fide.

"It feels like something that's from a market bigger than us," Garth said.

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Maybe it was the heady buzz of the crowd and music, but someone mentioned NYC, where folks routinely eat dinner when most of us are already asleep.

"I would love to be able to serve food until 11 or 11.30," Garth said.

And that brings us to the most important part of this.

You. Us. This city.

If Bona Fide served until 11 pm, would anyone show up?

Would we also show up to the dozen other restaurants that are consistently sourcing local food from local growers? If these restaurateurs offer us this landscape — consider its breadth, from The Rosecomb to Calliope to Little Coyote — will we support it?

At the bottom of the menu's back page, there are three tiny words. No other design, no other picture. Just three words:

In Good Faith.

It comes from the early definition of "bona fide." Most of us think: legit, the real thing.

Yep.

But the original Latin points towards a richer quality, something emanating from the bones and soul.

In. Good. Faith.

That's what "bona fide" really means.

I couldn't help studying the design and font, which seems to have one foot in a 1950s retro feel and the other in a futuristic space suit.

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So, Chattanooga, where are we as a city? Are we stuck back decades ago, or are we ready to respond to the heightened, elevated and better-than-ever restaurant scene that's being built for us?

Are we eating like it's the past? Or the present, which is leaning into the future?

Will we act in good faith as patrons and citizens who appreciate and choose locally-owned restaurants and locally-sourced menus?

Sure, opening night's fabulous, but how about night 750? Or night 7,500? How about the dozen restaurants that have been here for a decade or more?

Maybe Bona Fide's asking a question of us.

Will we act in good faith, too?

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in partnering with us? Email: david@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.

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