Southern Hospitality: The Social Affair's Kelly Spencer Opens The Station

If Kelly Spencer (left) weren’t so nice, you’d probably hate her. Okay, you wouldn’t hate her, but you’d be more than a wee bit envious of her culinary talents, business smarts, southern charm, and her ability to appear soignée while wearing jeans, clogs, and an apron if it weren’t for her quick smile, sincere warmth, and generous nature. 

For the last five years, Spencer has operated her catering company, The Social Affair, out of clients’ homes and in SweetArt Bakeshop‘s kitchen, which is small for one business, tiny for two. Peripatetic and cramped no more, Spencer now has her own building—a former filling station—that doubles as a catering kitchen and event space with an extra room for a gourmet market, fittingly named “The Station.”

Located in the Shaw neighborhood, where Spencer lives with her husband and two children, the rehabbed station now sits on the National Register of Historic Spaces thanks to Spencer’s painstaking efforts to preserve its unique character while adding her own rustically elegant stamp. The sleek space—with its epoxy-covered concrete floors, gleaming marble countertop, industrial-sized stainless-steel appliances, and accents of red (from the stools to the measuring cups to Spencer’s clogs)—positively shines in the light streaming in from the working garage doors. “I jump out of bed, I’m so excited,” Spencer said of her new work space, adding, “It really gave us our passion back.”

Beyond the shiny surfaces, you’ll find Spencer’s heritage: a photograph of her at five in front of her childhood kitchen set, her grandmother Nana’s cast-iron skillet, and an artfully framed recipe for the cornbread dressing Spencer still bakes in the same skillet. For the space’s grand opening in March, Spencer’s mom presented her with the kitchen set’s blender, which still lights up and runs, and all of the Tupperware pieces, which will be on display once Spencer finds the right medium. “Family is a big part of who I am now, so they get to stay with me,” she noted of the recipes and artifacts.

Inextricable to her heritage and cooking are her southern roots. Honoring her hometown of Vestavia Hills, a suburb of Birmingham, Alabama, Spencer adopted a dogwood flower as part of her brand. On Saturdays, the market sells tins of unbaked cinnamon rolls, tied up with a red string and a bag of icing ready to be cut and piped. The formerly secret recipe comes from Spencer’s sister-in-law, who only recently, perhaps while suffering from “pregnancy brain,” finally relented and shared it with her. All those red accents, explained Spencer, spark the appetite, and red just happens to be the color of the Crimson Tide, Spencer’s alma mater’s football team.

While her southern roots may creep into her catering events, depending on what her clients want, it’s in the market where she can reel it all out, where she can “channel her grandmothers.” Monday Night Supper Club, for example, offers a rotating menu of a meat and two sides for pick-up after 4 PM. Recent items include signature New Orleans style shrimp and Andouille over smoked Gouda grits with herbed ratatouille. Spencer smokes all of her own meats in the alley space next to her building, something she learned how to do from a neighbor. 

Regular market items include “Dixie Pimento Cheese,” which is her favorite, southern mac and cheese, two kinds of chicken salad (harvest and curried), rotating soups (red-lentil and lemon when I visited), homemade crackers and pita chips, and various spreads for dipping, including white bean and basil, smoked salmon, and fig and balsamic chutney. For dessert, there are chocolate gooey butter squares, lemon burst bars, and the not-to-be-missed sopapilla cheesecake squares.

I had the enviable “job” of trying many of these items, which sat, picture-perfectly, on a miniature lazy Susan (above), and had trouble deciding which was my favorite. Thankfully, I was able to cleanse my palate between samples with lemonade, served just as picture-perfectly in a mason jar with a red-and-white straw (below).

That many of the spreads and soups are sold in canning jars tied with red string illustrates Spencer’s effortless style and attention to detail. Did I mention that the market’s phone number is 735-5JAR?  She admits to having a “mason jar fetish.” She likes pigs, too.

Spencer’s family extends beyond blood to her neighborhood, where she kept her eye on the boarded up property, sure she would turn it into something her own. The building dates back to the 1940s when it operated as a filling station; part of the renovation process included having the old tanks removed from underground through a federal grants process. In the 1970s, the space was used as a service station, and on the day I visited Spencer for a tour and interview, that owner was leaving after having a tour of his own to see how much had changed. From the 1980s until Spencer bought the building, it was used as storage, but Spencer recognized its potential under all that wood.

Helping out both in the catering kitchen and market are two of Spencer’s friends, who are also like family to her. Alex Meyer, who went through culinary school at Forest Park with Spencer, works as her sous chef and kitchen manager, while Christine Salsich, a neighbor who holds a degree in Food Science and Nutrition/Hospitality Management, is the market manager.

On the day I was there, Salsich was busy preparing what would be quiche crust and the cinnamon roll dough (below), an impressive, fragrant semi-sphere studded with air pockets, promising a successful rise in the oven. 

The day before I was there, a woman paid for two tins of the unbaked rolls two weeks ahead of time. She just might be on to something, and we would be wise to follow her lead. While any and all jealousies of Kelly Spencer will dissipate once you meet her and see how hard she works, you will hate the person in line in front of you who buys the last tin of cinnamon rolls.

The Station

2232 Thurman

Shaw

314-735-5JAR

Mon: 4 p.m. - 7 p.m.

Tues-Fri: 11 a.m. - 6 p.m.

Sat: 9 a.m. - 1 p.m.

thesocilaaffair.com/the-station

[Editor's Note: At press time, The Station is no longer taking pre-orders for cinnamon rolls. They're available on Saturdays only, and when they're gone, they're gone.]