Not just desserts - chef Darryl E. Evans of Anthony's, Atlanta, GA; includes recipes

It's late afternoon, and patrons of Anthonys, Atlanta's prestigious 5-Diamond restaurant, have yet to arrive for dinner at the restored antebellum mansion. Chef Darryl E. Evans, the first African-American member of the U.S. Culinary Olympics team, walks from the kitchen into the empty dining room and casually seats himself. Instantly a waiter appears at his side, acknowledges his presence with the shadow of a bowed head and a whispered "Chef," bends formally from the waist, straightens an already immaculate table, and takes Evans' order of coffee.

Evans owns a soft voice, a slender frame and an absurdly youthful appearance for one who has risen so far--he looks all of 26, though in fact he's 33. He also owns two individual gold medals and team gold and silver medals garnered at the 1988 Culinary Olympics, an American Culinary Federation certificate as a working chef, and--for two years running--the title "Culinarian of the Year," bestowed by the Greater Atlanta Chefs Association of the American Culinary Federation.

To hear Evans tell it, much of his success is due to happy chance, particularly to being the youngest of three boys growing up in Columbus, Ga.: "My father was a schoolteacher, and my mother was a housewife, so when my two older brothers were in school, I stayed home with my mother and did 'girly' things, like baking cakes." Evans remembers Columbus as "a fun time. We were very family oriented. My mom had two brothers and four sisters, and my dad had a sister, so I got raised by my entire family. I never needed anything. Of course, I wanted things--I was like any other kid. I just didn't get all of them."

Growing up in western Georgia, where his first experience of integration didn't come until the fifth grade, Evans' hero was Martin Luther King Jr. "We observed Dr. King's birthday even when there weren't celebrations elsewhere in the country," he recalls. As a child he had other idols, of course. "Oscar Robertson and Dr. J were big heroes, though I wasn't a big athlete--I preferred playing the drum in the marching band."

Evans didn't leave Columbus until he was 21, when he moved to Atlanta and got a job clearing tables in a restaurant. Seeing a young man who was a chef and a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America, Evans thought, "I could do that."

That notion stuck with him when he moved into the purchasing department of the well-reputed Cherokee Town and Country Club. Fortuitously, purchasing was located right across the hall from the pastry area. "Pastries set the tone for everything in my career," Evans explains. "Because I had done cakes at home in Columbus, I understood what the chef there was doing, and when he let me help him, I knew what to do."

His ambition sparked, Evans was soon following certified Master Chef Thomas Catherall around as an apprentice. "I just stuck by his side and did whatever he did," says Evans. "I didn't care about money, just about learning." Catherall, whom Evans readily credits as his mentor, took his apprentice around the country when he was part of the Culinary Olympics team that one day soon would welcome Evans. Before long, Evans was the morning sous-chef at the Cherokee Club; not long thereafter, Catherall and he opened the Azalea Restaurant in Atlanta. Evans says, "I owned only a tiny, micro piece of the place."

After the Azalea came the challenges of being the executive chef of the Athens, Ga., Country Club, then of Atlanta's Vinings Club, and now of Anthonys, one of the top 10 continental restaurants in the country, according to the American Academy of Restaurant and Hospitality Sciences. Evans is giving the restaurant a Southern emphasis with a new menu that includes oven-roasted free-range chicken with hoppin' John rice cakes on thin green beans and rosemary jus and grilled venison loin and chop with carrot and black pepper whipped potatoes and lingonberry glaze.

"I've worked hard, but it's not just me," Evans says. "It's Godgiven." He has indeed worked hard. "I was in ROTC for two years in high school," he adds, "so I'm very disciplined. ROTC put rhythm in my step. We used to march three steps for every five yards, and even now, when I want to speed things up, I put myself in that cadence."

Also not to be discounted is Evans' well-earned confidence. "I don't need a waiter to come and tell me that a customer said the food was good. I know that before it leaves my kitchen--otherwise it doesn't leave my kitchen. You need a little arrogance in this field."

Perhaps so, but Evans doesn't have a dollop more than necessary. When the Vinings Club wanted to build him a case to display his trophies, Evans declined. Like the gunfighters of the Old West or the quarterback of a modern-day foot-ball team, Evans knows that "you're only as good as your last meal. My meals will be the trophies of my work."

So how does a quiet man with the needed streak of arrogance relax? By spending time at home with his wife, Deborah; his stepson, Brandon Wheeless; and his 2-year-old son, Branford-Michael. Also by "doing yard work, cutting grass and listening to music. And by collecting Prince paraphernalia."