A priest, a rabbi and a minister walk into a bar. This isn’t the setup to a joke — it’s a regular day at Manuel’s Tavern.

The Poncey-Highland institution has offered a reserved “clergy only” parking spot for as long as locals can remember. It’s a small nod to the diverse folk who have passed through its doors over the last 70 years: lawmakers, journalists, political junkies, sports fans, barflies and yes, members of the clergy.

This month, the tavern turns 70. Its history reads less like a bar’s resume than a running transcript of Atlanta itself.

⌛1950s: The bar that already had a past

When Manuel Maloof opened his tavern in 1956, almost nothing about it was new. The building, a 1920s structure fronted in Stone Mountain granite, had once housed Harry’s Delicatessen (coincidentally, an establishment Maloof had served as a beer deliveryman). The deli’s original front door opening became a window to the parking lot from the Eagle’s Nest room. The bar itself was salvaged from anold billiard hall owned by Maloof’s father, Gibran, on Pryor Street. The wood paneling in the main bar was reclaimed from an old church about to be demolished; it was a nod to the cozy English pubs Maloof came to love while serving in World War II.

⌛1960s: Boundary lines and sacred walls

The location in Fulton County proved useful. Just two blocks from the (then dry) DeKalb County line, Manuel’s offered the closest legal pour for Emory students, fueling its popularity among young adults and professionals alike. Maloof hung John F. Kennedy’s portrait above the bar following his 1960 victory, then shuttered the bar and draped the painting in black when Kennedy was assassinated in 1963. In 1968, Curtis McBride stepped behind the bar, kicking off a 42-year career serving Atlanta history by the pint. His photo would one day join the growing collection of pennants, steins and framed relics.

🍻 Read more: A decade-by-decade history of Manuel’s Tavern tells the story of Atlanta, one round at a time.

TYBEE ISLAND ― The Inferno Hot Sauce Emporium is the type of shop you wander in to only to get lost in — even though the store measures just seven steps deep and five across.

Hundreds of bottles of hot sauce and meat rubs line the exterior walls. “Colon Cleanser,” reads one label; “Dark Side of the Pepper,” another. There’s one shaped like a hand grenade; another bears a white-sheet-ghost novelty trinket over the lid, denoting a ghost pepper sauce. A tasting table dares customers to try it before they buy it.

Jimmy Cliff plays on a vinyl turntable in one corner. In another sits the proprietor, a middle-aged man with an easy, sly smile that makes you think he knows something you don’t. Brian Hogan’s work uniform is board shorts, a ripped T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a bright yellow trucker hat that reads CRISPY SHRIMP across the front.

Not so long ago, Hogan would have been found in the open kitchen of Shorty’s Pizza in Toco Hills or Tucker, or Pea Ridge Kitchen and Bar in Decatur, an apron across his front and a bandanna on his head. Restaurants were his life. He became a general manager the day after he graduated from Georgia State with an accounting degree and started his own place half a year later.

Shorty’s became a neighborhood favorite under his leadership — he sold in 2013 at a profit — and in partnering with chef Patrick Dunn of Leon’s Full Service to open Pea Ridge in 2015, he’d “made it” in food service parlance.

But at a cost; the long work hours meant he’d missed much of the first five years of his son’s life. With first grade looming, and with it earlier bedtimes that conflicted with late restaurant nights, Hogan gave up the grind and moved to the beach.

“I love the restaurant business,” he said, “but I never figured out how to do it without working all the time. I wanted a simpler life.”

🌶️ Read more: Hogan put quality of life first and moved his family to Tybee Island. His second-act business, Inferno Hot Sauce Emporium, is now an island hot spot.

It’s prime peach season, and when you’re tired of eating them over the sink or in cobblers and pies, add them to your dinner. Pair the stone fruit with relatively quick-cooking pork tenderloins for a sweet-and-savory meal that is simple to prepare but pretty enough for company.

💡Jump-start pork tenderloin in the skillet

Roasting isn’t always an obvious choice for a weeknight recipe, but it’s possible with the right technique. Instead of cooking the pork tenderloins in the oven from start to finish, give them a head start on the stovetop. Browning the meat first not only builds flavor on its exterior but also shortens the overall cooking time.

💡Pumpkin spice brings complex warm flavors to savory pork

While you may think of pumpkin spice as a dessert-centric spice blend, it works well in savory applications, too. After all, it’s simply a mix of warm spices like cinnamon, allspice and clove. In this recipe, it does double duty: rubbed on the pork tenderloins and as a seasoning for the peaches.

💡Roast underripe peaches for fork-tender texture

The challenge with roasting stone fruit like peaches is that it can fall apart in the oven. Starting with fully ripened peaches is a recipe for peach mush. Instead, use peaches that are still firm, yet aromatic. Put one up to your nose: If you can smell peach, it’s ready to use.

🍑 Get the full recipe for a 30-minute pork tenderloin.