The High Life: James Beard, Niedlov's and Calliope
Miller High Life never tasted so good.
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It's Friday morning inside the Niedlov's Bakery & Cafe kitchen and the lines are normal long, maybe extra ice-storm long, and the team is doing what it always does:
Taking care of people.
Back in the kitchen, it's cozy-warm, the smell of baking bread reaching out like a hug. On a counter near the ovens, DC Don is rapping about angel dust on radio speakers coated with a light sprinkling of flour, and lead baker Jemichael Wright's pulling out trays of buns and rosemary garlic loaves.
That's when Jami Gibson, Niedlov's manager, walked through the doors.
"It's time for a toast," she announced.
She was smiling — like, big-big smiling — which is just what everyone else who knows Niedlov's and owners Erik and Lauren Zilen has been doing since Wednesday morning.
"I've worked in bakeries for 15 years," said Matt Martin, production manager, "and I don't think I've ever worked at a bakery that cares so much for people.
"The bottom line is the second goal."
Two days earlier, the good news landed.
Niedlov's was named an Outstanding Bakery by the prestigious James Beard Foundation.
"OH MY WORD!!" texted Shannon Stewart, catering manager, when she heard the news.
Less than a mile away at Calliope, the good news continued: Chef Khaled AlBanna was named an Outstanding Chef semifinalist for the Southeast.
"Is this real?" said Raven Humphrey, Calliope co-owner and co-founder, as another Chattanooga restaurant owner texted her the news.
"Pinch me."
The awards are another jewel in an increasingly decorated crown: in the last 12 months, the Michelin Guide named six regional restaurants, Calliope was named a top 50 restaurant in the US, and now, two additional James Beard nominees.
The Calliope chef and co-owner, named an honoree chef at the 2023 James Beard Iconoclast dinner, joins prior Chattanooga nominated chefs: Erik Niel (2016, 2017), Rebecca Barron (2019), Daniel Lindley (2012, 2014).
"It's so good for our city," said Raven.
Since 1990, The James Beard Foundation has awarded the best in the US industry: outstanding chefs, restaurants, bakeries, bars and hospitality.
The list of announced semifinalists will be cut to an announced list of finalists on March 31, with the awards night in Chicago on June 15.
It's sweet recognition for years of behind-the-scenes struggle.
"Blood, sweat and tears," Raven said. "I think about all the late nights, the hard nights, crying in the walk-in."
When Calliope first opened, it filled in only half the space it occupies now. No private dining room. Only half a kitchen to cook in.
"These slow nights, only doing 20 covers," she remembered. "Are we going to make it? Are we doing the right thing?"
Yes, apparently, thankfully and absolutely yes.
On Wednesday night, Raven and Khaled took their team to Mean Jeen's for a big toast.
For the Niedlov's team, the toast came Friday morning.
Three six-packs of High Life.
Two dozen or so folks left their stations — ovens, the counter, pastry kitchen — as Erik and Lauren poured.
It was a perfect Niedlov's moment: not high-brow, but High Life. Cheers and hugs, like you'd see at a family reunion; for some of us, Niedlov's is the closest thing to that.
"I had forgotten I don't hate Miller High Life," smiled Lauren.
We drank, cheered, and their really big wish?
That you had been there, too.
The toast ended. The lines outside stretched longer. Buns needed baking.
The Zilens walked back to their office.
That's when the second round of toasting began.
This time, no Lite beer, only tears mixed with memories. The limelight can be a tough thing, but Erik and Lauren are trying awfully hard to let all this goodness and attention in.
His phone had rang — rang and rang — Wednesday morning as he was driving to the fabricator. A part on the divider-and-rounder machine — yep, it divides and shapes the buns — had gone kaput.
No way, he thought. I didn't even know James Beard looked at bakeries.
"You know me. It's a little awkward," he said. "But I really want to be in the moment of it.
"And being in the moment means many things."
"This moment represents the awful, broken days where we didn't think we would make it," he said. "All these challenges and vulnerabilities."
As the soft tears continued, Erik and Lauren talked about the heart of Niedlov's.
"Our team," he said.
Erik pulled out his phone, swiped to a photo from 2025. It was a warm day on the patio. The place was packed. In the crowd, a man sat quietly, head bowed over warm tea and a warm muffin.
"That's Mr. Tim," he said.
Every so often, Mr. Tim — homeless, struggling with mental health — comes into Niedlov's where the team greets him, welcomes him just like the queen of England.
Cup of warm tea. Muffin. He can rest at a bakery in peace. Mr. Tim's not the easiest customer, and certainly isn't good for business. (Remember Matt Martin? The bottom line is second.)
"Our team is so good," Erik said.
Then, they turned to you.
Yes, you.
"The customers," Lauren said. "They believed in us when we were not going to make it."
She thought back to restaurants, families and businesses that supported them, buying bread before they'd even baked it.
"I was going to say two-way street, but it's more like a 50-way street," she said.
The circle got even wider.
"We see all the outstretched arms of our community," Erik said.
They began naming people. Troy Rogers, the Niels, Sequatchie Cove Farms, Khaled, the folks at Battle Academy where Erik guest-teaches, Spencer Perez who built their entire coffee program.
Cynthia and Ron at Red Clay Farms who let this "crazy ass" baker into their home so he could begin milling the grain that would become the Rouge loaf.
More tears, as Erik remembered Ron saying: our door is always open for you.
They kept talking about you, the Niedlov's customers and community, and how this was really your nomination, too.
"This nomination ... is about you," Erik keeps telling people.
It's true: it takes a bakery and restaurant to make a village and a village to make a restaurant and bakery.
This is the Niedlov's + Calliope story.
"I love it," said Raven. "I love it when people love a good meal or drink. It makes me so happy."
"It's really, really cool," Lauren said earlier, as we sipped High Life. "A country girl and a scrawny kid who was going to save the world."
Yeah, young dreams turn into reality. Saving the whole world isn't possible.
But saving small worlds is.
Now, more than ever perhaps.
"The world doesn't feel secure right now," said Lauren. "Maybe people come here to find that."
Your world. My world. Our daily world. Saving and securing them.
That's the highest life of all.
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.
It's Friday morning inside the Niedlov's Bakery & Cafe kitchen and the lines are normal long, maybe extra ice-storm long, and the team is doing what it always does:
Taking care of people.
Back in the kitchen, it's cozy-warm, the smell of baking bread reaching out like a hug. On a counter near the ovens, DC Don is rapping about angel dust on radio speakers coated with a light sprinkling of flour, and lead baker Jemichael Wright's pulling out trays of buns and rosemary garlic loaves.
That's when Jami Gibson, Niedlov's manager, walked through the doors.
"It's time for a toast," she announced.
She was smiling — like, big-big smiling — which is just what everyone else who knows Niedlov's and owners Erik and Lauren Zilen has been doing since Wednesday morning.
"I've worked in bakeries for 15 years," said Matt Martin, production manager, "and I don't think I've ever worked at a bakery that cares so much for people.
"The bottom line is the second goal."
Two days earlier, the good news landed.
Niedlov's was named an Outstanding Bakery by the prestigious James Beard Foundation.
"OH MY WORD!!" texted Shannon Stewart, catering manager, when she heard the news.
Less than a mile away at Calliope, the good news continued: Chef Khaled AlBanna was named an Outstanding Chef semifinalist for the Southeast.
"Is this real?" said Raven Humphrey, Calliope co-owner and co-founder, as another Chattanooga restaurant owner texted her the news.
"Pinch me."
The awards are another jewel in an increasingly decorated crown: in the last 12 months, the Michelin Guide named six regional restaurants, Calliope was named a top 50 restaurant in the US, and now, two additional James Beard nominees.
The Calliope chef and co-owner, named an honoree chef at the 2023 James Beard Iconoclast dinner, joins prior Chattanooga nominated chefs: Erik Niel (2016, 2017), Rebecca Barron (2019), Daniel Lindley (2012, 2014).
"It's so good for our city," said Raven.
Since 1990, The James Beard Foundation has awarded the best in the US industry: outstanding chefs, restaurants, bakeries, bars and hospitality.
The list of announced semifinalists will be cut to an announced list of finalists on March 31, with the awards night in Chicago on June 15.
It's sweet recognition for years of behind-the-scenes struggle.
"Blood, sweat and tears," Raven said. "I think about all the late nights, the hard nights, crying in the walk-in."
When Calliope first opened, it filled in only half the space it occupies now. No private dining room. Only half a kitchen to cook in.
"These slow nights, only doing 20 covers," she remembered. "Are we going to make it? Are we doing the right thing?"
Yes, apparently, thankfully and absolutely yes.
On Wednesday night, Raven and Khaled took their team to Mean Jeen's for a big toast.
For the Niedlov's team, the toast came Friday morning.
Three six-packs of High Life.
Two dozen or so folks left their stations — ovens, the counter, pastry kitchen — as Erik and Lauren poured.
It was a perfect Niedlov's moment: not high-brow, but High Life. Cheers and hugs, like you'd see at a family reunion; for some of us, Niedlov's is the closest thing to that.
"I had forgotten I don't hate Miller High Life," smiled Lauren.
We drank, cheered, and their really big wish?
That you had been there, too.
The toast ended. The lines outside stretched longer. Buns needed baking.
The Zilens walked back to their office.
That's when the second round of toasting began.
This time, no Lite beer, only tears mixed with memories. The limelight can be a tough thing, but Erik and Lauren are trying awfully hard to let all this goodness and attention in.
His phone had rang — rang and rang — Wednesday morning as he was driving to the fabricator. A part on the divider-and-rounder machine — yep, it divides and shapes the buns — had gone kaput.
No way, he thought. I didn't even know James Beard looked at bakeries.
"You know me. It's a little awkward," he said. "But I really want to be in the moment of it.
"And being in the moment means many things."
"This moment represents the awful, broken days where we didn't think we would make it," he said. "All these challenges and vulnerabilities."
As the soft tears continued, Erik and Lauren talked about the heart of Niedlov's.
"Our team," he said.
Erik pulled out his phone, swiped to a photo from 2025. It was a warm day on the patio. The place was packed. In the crowd, a man sat quietly, head bowed over warm tea and a warm muffin.
"That's Mr. Tim," he said.
Every so often, Mr. Tim — homeless, struggling with mental health — comes into Niedlov's where the team greets him, welcomes him just like the queen of England.
Cup of warm tea. Muffin. He can rest at a bakery in peace. Mr. Tim's not the easiest customer, and certainly isn't good for business. (Remember Matt Martin? The bottom line is second.)
"Our team is so good," Erik said.
Then, they turned to you.
Yes, you.
"The customers," Lauren said. "They believed in us when we were not going to make it."
She thought back to restaurants, families and businesses that supported them, buying bread before they'd even baked it.
"I was going to say two-way street, but it's more like a 50-way street," she said.
The circle got even wider.
"We see all the outstretched arms of our community," Erik said.
They began naming people. Troy Rogers, the Niels, Sequatchie Cove Farms, Khaled, the folks at Battle Academy where Erik guest-teaches, Spencer Perez who built their entire coffee program.
Cynthia and Ron at Red Clay Farms who let this "crazy ass" baker into their home so he could begin milling the grain that would become the Rouge loaf.
More tears, as Erik remembered Ron saying: our door is always open for you.
They kept talking about you, the Niedlov's customers and community, and how this was really your nomination, too.
"This nomination ... is about you," Erik keeps telling people.
It's true: it takes a bakery and restaurant to make a village and a village to make a restaurant and bakery.
This is the Niedlov's + Calliope story.
"I love it," said Raven. "I love it when people love a good meal or drink. It makes me so happy."
"It's really, really cool," Lauren said earlier, as we sipped High Life. "A country girl and a scrawny kid who was going to save the world."
Yeah, young dreams turn into reality. Saving the whole world isn't possible.
But saving small worlds is.
Now, more than ever perhaps.
"The world doesn't feel secure right now," said Lauren. "Maybe people come here to find that."
Your world. My world. Our daily world. Saving and securing them.
That's the highest life of all.
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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