How JenChan’s Became an Epicenter of Community in Cabbagetown

A “Wall of Love” with handwritten positive affirmations and jokes takes up a corner. A pennant of customer photos clipped onto a string catches the eye. Paper lanterns are suspended from black-painted rafters along with icicle lights. But most of the walls are taken up by art. From family photos and oversized Asian-inspired kitsch, to old newspaper and magazine clippings, and a big rainbow flag that encourages all to “Abide No Hatred” — they’re all loud proclamations of love that co-owners and wife-and-wife team — Jen and Emily Chan — have for each other, their neighborhood, restaurant, and different heritages.

It’s tangible, this warmth. Upbeat, high-energy old hits pump through the speakers as the team continues to set up for service, but not loud enough to drown out spurts of laughter and encouraging banter exclaiming, “Yes! You’re amazing.”

And as arriving diners are greeted by name, they in turn, greet passing dogs by name, too.

Within minutes of opening its doors, it’s clear that JenChan’s is a community hub — an encapsulation of Cabbagetown’s fun, bohemian character and an example of how it’s embraced with pride. It feels iconic, like it’s been here for ever.

But it’s just shy of six years old, opened six months before the pandemic, and its journey to becoming so organically integral to the community is one that both Jen and Emily could’ve never imagined.

A restaurant as funktastic as its neighborhood.

Cabbagetown is funky. And it’s always been that way.

According to local Atlanta lore, this tiny neighborhood’s name derives from Scotch Irish Appalachian transplants working at nearby mills, who grew and cooked enough cabbage to create a literal funk that permeated the neighborhood. But today, that funkiness, or quirkiness, is figurative … albeit just as pervasive through its eight square blocks.

You feel it down Wylie Street where larger-than-life murals curve along the railyard walls, when you spot random red buckets hanging from light posts, and the oversized teddy bear dangling from Little’s Food Store’s iconic storefront.

And only here, says Emily, could their funktastic, amalgamation of an Asian-ish, pizza-ish, seasonal restaurant not only exist, but come back from the brink … and thrive, held up by their community.

From delivery supper club to brick and mortar.

JenChan’s started as a delivery-based, neighborhood supper club in 2018. Working out of a prep kitchen and with their newborn son, Mik, in tow, Jen and Emily would drop off deliveries once a week. But as word spread and their cooking creativity juices started flowing in equally unbounded ways, the demand grew steadily until some customers were requesting as many as five meals a week, “Because every meal was so different,” Emily says.

The growing local demand made them realize that perhaps they were onto something. People couldn’t get enough of dishes like fermented black bean riblets with gai lan, Mongolian beef cheese steaks with smoked gouda, soy sauce-baked chicken legs, shakshuka, and the arepas Jen drew from her family’s South American background.

Then in September 2019, in a space with a long history of unsuccessful restaurants, they officially debuted JenChan’s after giving it “not much more than a paint job and paper lanterns, which were the only lighting we could afford,” says Emily. Much of the furniture came from Restore by Habitat for Humanity and the décor came from home. But one thing they did invest in, as an act of love by Jen, was a four-deck pizza oven for Emily.

“Back in college, I worked at pizza places around town, and then I worked in corporate for Mellow Mushroom, so I’ve been working on my pizza forever, making them at home,” says Emily. She connected with a local bread company and was gifted a 20-year-old sourdough starter (“Her name is Caroline, named after my mama,” she says.) that then became the base for the focaccia-style pan pizza that is now a JenChan’s signature.

The restaurant’s pizza is unlike anything found elsewhere. For instance, the General Tsao’s sauce is topped with jalapeños, chile crisp, mozzarella, and honey chicken. And PoPo’s Pie, named for Jen’s grandma, comes with burrata, lap cheong, gochujang ketchup, anchovies, and three types of cheese.

Through the ups and downs.

That pizza oven became a saving grace as COVID shut the country down only months later, because as luck would have it, “Pizza travels well,” says Jen. And their flavor combinations were runaway hits – enough so that Emily paid employees to get their bikes fixed just to deliver pizzas through Cabbagetown and beyond.

But it wasn’t enough to stay afloat during those tough times, with rent and staff to pay. The threat of going out of business was imminent. However, it was Cabbagetown’s turn to take care of them, as a GoFundMe raised upwards of $10,000 to keep their ongoing supper club dishes coming. A PPP (paycheck protection program) loan helped, too. From there, “As the kids say, we ‘popped off,’” Jen says with both awe and gratitude.

When they reopened, the community’s joy was enough to take them to the next level, when two years ago, they were able to retire the supper club. Then, they were able to take deeper dives and bigger risks with cuisine, introducing items like salt and pepper catfish with Sichuan pepper and pickled beef tongue Caesar salad.

However, that wasn’t the last of their trials. Rather than increase their menu prices, the Chans introduced a 4% healthcare contribution surcharge to help offer coverage to the employees they care so deeply about. They’d been inspired to do so by other popular local businesses but in January 2024, Jen and Emily went viral for it and became heavily targeted.

But again, Cabbagetown took care of its own.

Regulars and Atlantans from OTP and beyond voiced their support and showed up to dine with JenChan’s in a show of solidarity … and returned time and again for the food and community.

This unwavering support also continued when in November 2025, they were struck with another blow: A breast cancer diagnosis for Jen. With its announcement and subsequent healthcare coverage challenges, folks rallied once more both online and in person as locals filled the dining room and encouraged Jen as she cooked through her ongoing chemotherapy treatments. Even better, their social media was flooded with thousands of likes for the video of Jen ringing the bell for her final treatment just this April.

Their perfect patch.

“We have the best guests. I tell every server, ‘You’ll never serve better people than here,’” says Jen.

This is also evident as people continuously pose for pictures by staff members to hang up on the Polaroid wall or through the stream of neighborhood folks dropping in just to say hi, show off a tchotchke, or put up a new sticker.

These little acts are part of why Emily so firmly believes that it’s the neighborhood that makes JenChan’s successful.

“I don’t think you can take JenChan’s out of Cabbagetown. It’s inimitable elsewhere. There’s a heartbeat and pulse to this neighborhood, and we try to grow with it, organically,” she says.

It’s exactly why the menu is always evolving, changing as frequently as new kitschy details are added to the space. It’s also why the couple remain invested in community building, hosting Resy Experiences like special dinners and mahjong nights that have helped kick off the craze in Atlanta.

Plus, as Emily points out, “I don’t ever, ever want it to be exclusive … like we’re too cool to take care of you.”

“In fact, I know this sounds really uncool,” she adds, “but I want people to feel like they’re going to their favorite grandma’s house when they’re here. I want them to learn more about other people and cultures. Because the more you love them, the more joy we can bring inside — and the more that shows up on the plate.”

JenChan’s is open Tuesday and Wednesday from 5 to 10 p.m., Thursday and Friday from noon to 10 p.m., Saturday from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.

Su-Jit Lin is a rehabilitated New Yorker, former New Orleanian, and current Atlantan, in addition to being a travel, food, and lifestyle writer. She has contributed to EatingWell, HuffPost, Epicurious, The Takeout, Eater, The Kitchn, VinePair, Thrillist, Food & Wine, Serious Eats, Southern Living, and more. Follow her on Instagram. Follow Resy, too.