Long before Asheville, North Carolina, was known for its beer scene, distinctive foods and drinks were central to southern Appalachian communities. From ramps plucked from the earth in springtime to sorghum squeezed in the fall, its unique culinary identity has been a source of pride and tourism dollars. After Hurricane Helene tore through western North Carolina in September 2024, restaurants were amid the wreckage—even if the buildings were undamaged by the storm, owners and cooks still had to reckon with a lack of clean water for weeks. Suddenly, restaurateurs across the region were making impossible calculations to account for the rapid declines in customer traffic, rejected insurance claims, and bottlenecked relief funds while also dealing with vestigial exhaustion from the COVID lockdowns.
Many of downtown Asheville’s best-known eateries were quick to get back in the groove of normal service, following a short period of adjusted menus and disposable cups. But not every spot was so lucky. Just beyond the city’s main business area, dining destinations in Historic Biltmore Village and the River Arts District were totaled. In Madison, Mitchell, and Yancey Counties, among other locations, restaurants suffered similar fates. Yet even with so many places experiencing the crisis, no two owners faced the same set of obstacles. We checked in with some of the storm-ravaged establishments that are navigating very different paths ahead.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/a7IO94qAc1742803155119.jpg]
Noodle Hole
MARSHALL
On August 29, 2024, Ryan Martin and Hallee Hirsh, the husband-and-wife team behind Asheville’s hugely popular Hole Doughnuts, launched a hand-pulled noodle bar in the town they’ve called home for a decade. The intimate dozen-seat space was as bouncy as stretched dough, its up-tempo energy was helped along by the enthusiastic chatter of regulars and Radiohead music turned up loud. But four weeks later, the couple was bracing for destruction.
They initially thought their storm plan would just entail reconfiguring the line so waiting diners wouldn’t get wet, but as predictions grew grimmer, Hallee and Ryan began shutting down Noodle Hole. On September 26, a passerby saw them packing their new restaurant into boxes and asked what time they served supper. “I wanted to say, ‘Look around, and say goodbye to everything,’ ” Hallee recalls. By late October, they were still pressure washing away the muddy residue of floodwaters that rose to 12 feet in their dining room. In tiny Marshall, every business was gutted, and some were swept down the river.
Yet Hallee insists she’s grateful she got the briefest glimpse of their fantasy project. “Those four weeks were absolute magic,” she says, swearing up and down that her outlook for the future is a clearer picture in her mind than the mess they encountered on their first day back in the dining room.
She has continued to see evidence of that magic: in the neighbors who squeal their love for her from across the street; in the community’s post-storm “wants list,” to which she added a Hobart mixer (that she received); and in the generosity of Florida philanthropist Helen Rich, who gave money to several western North Carolina eateries, including Noodle Hole, to help them rebuild in Helene’s aftermath. While Rich’s primary cause is animal rescue, she and her daughter had been to this region before and were struck by how food was core to its soul.
“We’ve got to start somewhere. [The beneficiaries] can rehire employees, and then those people can go to restaurants, and you can get the heart beating,” says Rich, who envisions restaurant patronage becoming a common element of disaster recovery as insurance payments lag and politicians argue about compensation measures. Rich wrote a check to Noodle Hole after a phone call with Hallee and says, “She sounded like a great person doing a great thing.”
With this gift as well as other funding, Hallee and Ryan plan to re-create their noodle shop just as it was prior to the storm, save for one significant exception: They are redesigning the bar and other fixtures to slide out for easy transportation should a flood ever threaten to lap at their door again. Sounds like magic.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/5lGYUL-iL1742803358577.jpg]
12 Bones Smokehouse
ASHEVILLE
Before it was battered by Hurricane Helene, Asheville’s River Arts District was a must-visit part of downtown. Bordered by a wide greenway, the low-lying assemblage of former mills and storehouses was dappled with old-world-style bakeries and innovative kitchens. It was the kind of place where artists of all generations swapped ideas and oil paints and where visiting celebrities could tuck into new-wave barbecue without being bothered.
At 12 Bones Smokehouse, many of those happy customers scribbled their names on a designated wall. While that wall is still standing, the interiors were destroyed. People with businesses along the French Broad River were always cognizant of the hazards posed by the ancient waterway, but the storm assaulted the neighborhood so forcefully that 12 Bones owners Angela Koh and Bryan King found mud in their attic.
They had purchased the restaurant in 2012 and relocated four years later to another River Arts District structure when the city took the property by eminent domain for development of sidewalks and public art. “It was a thriving hub of the city," Bryan says of their decision to stay, albeit on slightly higher ground. "We didn't feel invincible but thought we'd be okay. Worst case: We were going to get some streets flooded and wouldn't be able to open for a few days. But to think the building would be almost completely submerged-I never thought it was going to be on that level."
Because they were in Seattle when the hurricane hit, they watched floodwaters submerge their dining room on a security camera feed. At first, they thought it might not reach the merchandise. But it rose past the T-shirts and up toward the ceiling, around which time Angela deemed the on-screen situation "pretty catastrophic."
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/EU5N2Ojqe1742803416209.jpg]
Still, Angela and Bryan emphasize that many of their fellow River Arts District restaurateurs were hit harder. In 2019, the couple had opened a second smokehouse with a massive brewery about 10 miles from downtown in Arden, beyond the reach of the river and, admittedly, most day-trippers.
“We’re kind of on an island out here,” Bryan says, lamenting that touring artists and North Asheville residents are unlikely to entertain on the outskirts of Henderson County. But having the second location meant that, as soon as the power was restored and employees were accounted for (a process that took a day or two due to downed cell towers), they could start serving again. So 12 Bones Smokehouse reopened on October 8, while their brewing facility functioned as a space where charitable groups could receive and sort donations.
They say that, in some ways, they’re thankful for an excuse to keep things small. “Maybe it is about simplifying,” says Angela, who has had her eye on updating the back patio. She's always wanted to make it prettier, maybe add some greenery, but she was just too busy going back and forth between restaurants to fuss with cosmetic upgrades. Now, she says, it’s time to plant.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/LkLBdlNKQ1742803453492.jpg]
The NuWray Hotel and Maples
BURNSVILLE
Just hours after Helene stopped pounding Yancey County with more water than three standard rain gauges could hold, Amanda and James Keith waded into the murky kitchen of The NuWray Hotel, too dazed by the storm to pay much attention to the damage around them.
Since purchasing the landmark in 2021, the couple had fiddled with its restaurant lineup, which included a deli when Helene barged into Burnsville. Knowing their meats and cheeses were bound to spoil, the Keiths assembled several dozen sandwiches by flashlight and distributed them in the town square. Five days later, the effort had morphed into a full-fledged feeding oper...
Many of downtown Asheville’s best-known eateries were quick to get back in the groove of normal service, following a short period of adjusted menus and disposable cups. But not every spot was so lucky. Just beyond the city’s main business area, dining destinations in Historic Biltmore Village and the River Arts District were totaled. In Madison, Mitchell, and Yancey Counties, among other locations, restaurants suffered similar fates. Yet even with so many places experiencing the crisis, no two owners faced the same set of obstacles. We checked in with some of the storm-ravaged establishments that are navigating very different paths ahead.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/a7IO94qAc1742803155119.jpg]
Noodle Hole
MARSHALL
On August 29, 2024, Ryan Martin and Hallee Hirsh, the husband-and-wife team behind Asheville’s hugely popular Hole Doughnuts, launched a hand-pulled noodle bar in the town they’ve called home for a decade. The intimate dozen-seat space was as bouncy as stretched dough, its up-tempo energy was helped along by the enthusiastic chatter of regulars and Radiohead music turned up loud. But four weeks later, the couple was bracing for destruction.
They initially thought their storm plan would just entail reconfiguring the line so waiting diners wouldn’t get wet, but as predictions grew grimmer, Hallee and Ryan began shutting down Noodle Hole. On September 26, a passerby saw them packing their new restaurant into boxes and asked what time they served supper. “I wanted to say, ‘Look around, and say goodbye to everything,’ ” Hallee recalls. By late October, they were still pressure washing away the muddy residue of floodwaters that rose to 12 feet in their dining room. In tiny Marshall, every business was gutted, and some were swept down the river.
Yet Hallee insists she’s grateful she got the briefest glimpse of their fantasy project. “Those four weeks were absolute magic,” she says, swearing up and down that her outlook for the future is a clearer picture in her mind than the mess they encountered on their first day back in the dining room.
She has continued to see evidence of that magic: in the neighbors who squeal their love for her from across the street; in the community’s post-storm “wants list,” to which she added a Hobart mixer (that she received); and in the generosity of Florida philanthropist Helen Rich, who gave money to several western North Carolina eateries, including Noodle Hole, to help them rebuild in Helene’s aftermath. While Rich’s primary cause is animal rescue, she and her daughter had been to this region before and were struck by how food was core to its soul.
“We’ve got to start somewhere. [The beneficiaries] can rehire employees, and then those people can go to restaurants, and you can get the heart beating,” says Rich, who envisions restaurant patronage becoming a common element of disaster recovery as insurance payments lag and politicians argue about compensation measures. Rich wrote a check to Noodle Hole after a phone call with Hallee and says, “She sounded like a great person doing a great thing.”
With this gift as well as other funding, Hallee and Ryan plan to re-create their noodle shop just as it was prior to the storm, save for one significant exception: They are redesigning the bar and other fixtures to slide out for easy transportation should a flood ever threaten to lap at their door again. Sounds like magic.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/5lGYUL-iL1742803358577.jpg]
12 Bones Smokehouse
ASHEVILLE
Before it was battered by Hurricane Helene, Asheville’s River Arts District was a must-visit part of downtown. Bordered by a wide greenway, the low-lying assemblage of former mills and storehouses was dappled with old-world-style bakeries and innovative kitchens. It was the kind of place where artists of all generations swapped ideas and oil paints and where visiting celebrities could tuck into new-wave barbecue without being bothered.
At 12 Bones Smokehouse, many of those happy customers scribbled their names on a designated wall. While that wall is still standing, the interiors were destroyed. People with businesses along the French Broad River were always cognizant of the hazards posed by the ancient waterway, but the storm assaulted the neighborhood so forcefully that 12 Bones owners Angela Koh and Bryan King found mud in their attic.
They had purchased the restaurant in 2012 and relocated four years later to another River Arts District structure when the city took the property by eminent domain for development of sidewalks and public art. “It was a thriving hub of the city," Bryan says of their decision to stay, albeit on slightly higher ground. "We didn't feel invincible but thought we'd be okay. Worst case: We were going to get some streets flooded and wouldn't be able to open for a few days. But to think the building would be almost completely submerged-I never thought it was going to be on that level."
Because they were in Seattle when the hurricane hit, they watched floodwaters submerge their dining room on a security camera feed. At first, they thought it might not reach the merchandise. But it rose past the T-shirts and up toward the ceiling, around which time Angela deemed the on-screen situation "pretty catastrophic."
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/EU5N2Ojqe1742803416209.jpg]
Still, Angela and Bryan emphasize that many of their fellow River Arts District restaurateurs were hit harder. In 2019, the couple had opened a second smokehouse with a massive brewery about 10 miles from downtown in Arden, beyond the reach of the river and, admittedly, most day-trippers.
“We’re kind of on an island out here,” Bryan says, lamenting that touring artists and North Asheville residents are unlikely to entertain on the outskirts of Henderson County. But having the second location meant that, as soon as the power was restored and employees were accounted for (a process that took a day or two due to downed cell towers), they could start serving again. So 12 Bones Smokehouse reopened on October 8, while their brewing facility functioned as a space where charitable groups could receive and sort donations.
They say that, in some ways, they’re thankful for an excuse to keep things small. “Maybe it is about simplifying,” says Angela, who has had her eye on updating the back patio. She's always wanted to make it prettier, maybe add some greenery, but she was just too busy going back and forth between restaurants to fuss with cosmetic upgrades. Now, she says, it’s time to plant.
image [https://cdn.magzter.com/1453375455/1742544088/articles/qhsM9EVaF1742798646797/LkLBdlNKQ1742803453492.jpg]
The NuWray Hotel and Maples
BURNSVILLE
Just hours after Helene stopped pounding Yancey County with more water than three standard rain gauges could hold, Amanda and James Keith waded into the murky kitchen of The NuWray Hotel, too dazed by the storm to pay much attention to the damage around them.
Since purchasing the landmark in 2021, the couple had fiddled with its restaurant lineup, which included a deli when Helene barged into Burnsville. Knowing their meats and cheeses were bound to spoil, the Keiths assembled several dozen sandwiches by flashlight and distributed them in the town square. Five days later, the effort had morphed into a full-fledged feeding oper...
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Southern Living (Digital) - 1 Issue, April 2025