When we visited Sylvia’s Restaurant (328 Malcolm X Boulevard, New York, NY; 212-996-0660, sylviasrestaurant.com) a few days before Thanksgiving, our server Ali reminded us that we could return on the holiday if we wanted. ‶We’re full up on reservations,″ he said, ‶but if you have no place else to go, we’ll fit you in. Sylvia’s believes no one should go hungry on Thanksgiving.″

That same spirit of welcome embodies Sylvia’s throughout the year. Founded in 1962 by Sylvia Woods (whose family still operates it), the restaurant remains a standard-bearer of authentic soul food. Moreover, it’s a community favorite, a touchstone of urban Black culture, and a Mecca for politicians courting the Black vote. Some of their photos line the walls, along with signed photos of entertainment world royalty. After all, Sylvia’s is a short stroll from the Apollo Theater.

For all its cultural significance, at heart Sylvia’s is a place where people gladly gather to break bread. Cornbread, that is. We both grew up with Southern grandmothers who made cast-iron skillet cornbread, which has always been our entry point into soul food. Ali apologized for a 20-minute wait for cornbread when we arrived a bit early. When the small squares came to the table exactly 19 minutes later, they were well worth the wait.

Southern cooking with a touch of class

Besides, that gave us time to ponder the menu. There’s nothing complicated about it — except doing the calculus of how much you can eat in a single sitting. We decided that restraint was the better part of valor. We could always return. So Pat ordered the meatloaf special with ‶secret sauce″ (ketchup and BBQ sauce in equal parts, we suspect). David ordered a combination plate of fried chicken and ribs. Each came with two sides — mac and cheese and green beans for Pat, collards and yellow rice for David.

The restaurant has two separate but adjacent dining rooms. One is red with a red-brick wall (see top of post), the other a tasteful sage gray-green. Both began to fill up as we waited for our food. Many two-tops held couples, some long familiar with each, some obviously on dates. Servers pushed several tables together to accommodate an extended family with several kids. Some patrons wore athleisure-wear, others dressed up.

We immediately saw the Southern roots of our food when it arrived, but the preparations lightened up on the tradition. The fried chicken, for example, featured a very lightly coated crispy skin with just a little heat in the coating. The collard greens were, hands down, the best we’ve ever eaten. Flavored with bits of smoked turkey instead of the usual ham or bacon grease, they were braised just enough to be cooked but lightly enough to retain some tooth.

The preparations may have been lighter, but the servings were extremely generous. After splitting a peach cobbler for dessert, we went home with enough chicken, ribs, and meatloaf for another meal.