Chef Gregory Kalatsky rubbed a generous amount of his signature seasoning blend of cumin, coriander, and chili powder on a rack of ribs and placed it in the smoker. There it would cook for the next four hours.
Construction echoed behind him as he shut the smoker door, which was just outside his restaurant on El Camino Real in Atascadero.
“How was your meal?” he asked two customers sitting outside.
“Excellent,” they replied with a smile.
Kalatsky told New Times that the ongoing construction out front of his building was hindering business.
“Let me tell you that it has been a nuclear winter,” Kalatsky said. “It’s really sucked, I mean, to the point where I’m like, why am I even open?”
He opened Chef Gregory’s BBQ Emporium in June 2024 and prides himself on cooking Memphis-style barbecue, which uses only dry seasoning rubs rather than sauce, something he said he felt North County lacked.
Although he grew up in Southern California, Kalatsky said he was heavily influenced by Tennessee culture—where his mother is originally from and they have family dating back to the 1800s.
“I know about barbecue,” he said.
But downtown, construction that started last year for a parking enhancement project has cut the restaurant’s business by more than half since it opened, Kalatsky said.
Pointing to a stack of receipt papers behind the counter, Kalatsky said, “If we look at those things, you’ll see that there’s been $57 for the entire day worth of business, … and there was a lot of that for weeks and weeks in a row.”
His business situation got so concerning that he posted in the Facebook group Everything Atascadero on Jan. 9 asking for help.
“This is Gregory with Chef Gregory’s Barbecue Emporium, reaching out one last time for your support,” he posted. “Business has been so slow that I’m facing the possibility of closing our doors here in Atascadero. If you want to keep this local gem alive, I urge you to come down and help us out.”
And, according to Kalatsky, the community showed up.
“Yeah, they’ve responded, and they’ve been great,” he told New Times. “It’s like, OK, we’ve got to keep this going, you know?”
To keep business popping, Kalatsky said he wants to provide a plentiful menu that has options for everyone but also holds true to his Memphis heritage.
While he may not serve macaroni and cheese yet—like other nearby barbecue joints—the menu is still extensive. It includes a pork sandwich, porky bowl (a pork sandwich minus the bun), ribs, beans, a Caesar salad and Chef Gregory’s Signature salad.
“Do you eat pickled ginger? Do you like soy sauce? Do you enjoy pot stickers?” he asked, then presented Chef Gregory’s trademarked signature salad dressing miraculously encompassing all of the aforementioned flavors.
Signature salad isn’t the only side Chef Gregory’s has trademarked. Nearly 30 bags of flavored peanut brittle varieties line the shop’s shelves.
Lemongrass lime leaf, maple bacon, cappuccino tiramisu, banana bacon, Big Sur Double IPA, and more.
“I’ve been called a mad scientist, Willy Wonka, the list goes on,” he said, “and let me tell you, it is not easy getting flavor mixed with sugar at 315 degrees. When you have sugar boiling, it doesn’t react well with other stuff.”
Kalatsky equated his 30-flavor success to being a trained chef. He attended the Culinary Institute of America, but he specified that completing an education at the institute doesn’t necessarily make one a true “chef.”
“A lot of people use the word chef as a glorified term, and they have no idea what it really means,” he said. “It’s like, ‘Oh, you’re a chef.’ No. ‘You’re a cook.'”
What sets a chef apart from a cook?
“Well, I guess if I have to boil it down to one word, it would be integrity, and the chef is going to skim the scum off of the top of the soup and the beans and the other items, impurities, proteins that float to the surface, and scoop that out … because we don’t want that in there,” Kalatsky said. “The cook’s going to stir it back in.” Δ
Staff Writer Libbey Hanson is still amazed how peanut brittle can taste like banana. Send your peanut brittle flavor ideas to lhanson@newtimesslo.com.
This article appears in Jan 30 – Feb 9, 2025.