From the moment you open the glass door, stepping from the North Chamberlin Ave. sidewalk and into Bohemian Village, the juice bar that feels like an art gallery, it takes four good strides - left foot, right foot - to reach the counter.

Four steps.

"Ten-and-a-half feet," said owner Silas Luster.

In that time - in those four good strides - a lot can happen. Sometimes, it only takes opening the door - just one stride inside - when it hits.

"I've had people cry," he said, "because of how much it means to them."

Bohemian Village greets you like an embrace. The plants and artwork and candle flame and all the faces on the walls, like some angelic host - it all carries impact.

“Seeing that over and over inspires me to keep going," Silas said. "Like your expression when you walked in."

Our expression in one word? Ease.

Safety. Comfort. Invitation. The heart could exhale.

And we're white. Now, imagine the impact and power of striding into a Black-owned, Black-centric juice bar situated in the heart of east Chattanooga overflowing with art, plants, candlescent and organic, healthy food and drink prepared with care and love.

Let's be honest: a joyfully authentic experience of a Black-owned juice bar for Black Chattanoogans?

In this city, that can be hard to find.

"You can come here and meet people like you," Silas said. "Places downtown don't have that energy. Smoothies and juice bars can feel cold, with metal chairs. We wanted to offer a vision for the future."

When Silas, 35, moved here from Cape Cod, Massachusetts, he wanted to open a restaurant - meaningful, with heart - in the heart of Glass Street and east Chattanooga, a place restaurant owners normally pass over.

So, he began to work: everything in its right place. All parts intentional. In his sketch book, he drew out his imagination: all parts of Bohemian Village, down to the very number of steps from front door to counter, measuring, quite precisely, intentionally looking for that right balance.

"How many steps until the countertop? Not right in front, not so far away, that perfect medium," he said.

On February 1, 2023, Bohemian Village opened with a Glass Street vision - serving a plant-based menu of smoothies, teas and sandwiches.

Calling it a juice bar, though, is like calling Hendrix a guitarist. Sure, Silas serves juices - Jimi played the guitar, too - but the totality of Bohemian Village is far more than just cold-pressed juice or smoothies.

It gets under the skin. It sees the skin. Welcomes it.

Plants everywhere, books everywhere, art everywhere.

"It's immediate," said Silas. "The plants, art, signs, music, smells."

There's James Baldwin on the wall. Emmitt Till. Bob Marley.

Local artists, from Chattanooga to Nashville to Atlanta.

"It is my favorite place in all of town," said Angelica Acevedo. "You can walk in and sense the peace this place offers. He builds beautiful relationships."

"It speaks for itself. Elevating Black culture and Black art. I bring everyone I can here."

The bookshelves are packed thick with words of freedom: The Science of Yoga, I Am Not Your Negro, Eat to Beat Disease, the Autobiography of Malcolm X.

"Bohemian Village is more than a restaurant. The business part was the last thing I thought about," Silas said. "I really wanted to create the space - the smells, the plants, the music, the dream - where people can come together and take your mind off what's going on out there."

Out there. East Chattanooga and Glass Street. That's why folks cry.

"Representation," Silas said.

In the 1960s, Larry Luster - Silas's dad - lived on Highway 58 but, as a teenager, would visit in the summers to Cape Cod, Mass., where he'd bus tables at one of Provincetown's most enduring Italian restaurants.

Ciro and Sal's.

Over time, Ciro began mentoring Larry, who eventually bought the restaurant.

As his son, Silas grew up in the industry - watching his dad, learning hospitality, the ins and outs of a restaurant.

At the time, it didn't take.

"I wanted out of Cape Cod," Silas said.

Film school in NYC. An internship with Spike Lee. Filmmaking jobs Then, NYC became claustrophobic; Silas, in his late 20s, moved back to Cape Cod and Ciro and Sal's.

But he arrived with a mind and heart that were changing.

To him, food wasn't what it used to be.

He was reading books. Eating raw foods. Vegetarian, then vegan. Internet essays and videos. Vegan philosophy. Certification from Cornell University's Center for Nutrition Studies. It was an awakening: food was connected to strength, mind-states, race, economy, family.

"Everything," he said. "I was getting out of the system. I just put things together."

He began to cross over to the other side where food - simple, pure food - was enough.

"You get to the other side and a green apple is so delicious," he said. “A bag of grapes satisfies your appetite." 

At Ciro and Sal's, he asked for vegetarian carbonara; folks turned heads. You ok, man?

Soon, this whirlwind of creative vision resting on this foundational Blackness led Silas back to his father's hometown - Chattanooga, and Highway 58 where cousins and family still lived - bringing his family and two young children, searching for a place, the right place, finding Glass Street and then, there it was.

"This intersection pulsates with energy. It was once something," he said.

Glass Street - once incorporated as its own town, according to local historian Sam Hall - was long-ago vibrant: the Rivoli Theater, restaurants, the Hamilton Bank, hardware stores. (Read a little local history here and here.)

In 2012, the Glass House Collective was formed; for a decade, it helped create immeasurable goodness - economic, spiritual and social - for the neighborhood.

In 2019, Betty Patterson - followed by granddaughter Jacquelyn Allgood-White - opened the Allgood Coffee Shop and Used Books.

Silas noticed. Jacquelyn was an inspiration.

"If she wasn't there, I don't know if I could have opened," he said.

In 2021, he bought the space that would become Bohemian Village. Not everyone agreed. Don't do it, folks said. You picked the wrong neighborhood, the electrician said. People aren't going to come.

Every so often, though, he'd hear this: you're doing something huge.

"I could provide something people wanted and needed," he said. "I feel it in my heart."

Now, most mornings? Within hours of stocking the Bohemian Village cooler with juices, the most wonderful thing happens.

"We sell out," he said.

Bohemian Village presses its own juice each day, going through 60 pounds of T and T Produce apples each week. Cold-pressed juices, like: "Rebel With a Cause" and "Satisfy My Soul" and "My Heart Beats for You." (Beetroot + watermelon + cucumber + mint + lime).

Silas sells smoothies: "Natural Wealth" + "Buried in Milk and Honey" and "Cherish Every Moment." (Yep. Tart cherries.)

Silas sells loose-leaf herbal teas.

Silas sells plant-based breakfast sandwiches, black bean burgers, avocado toast, acai-bowls, almond butter berry toast.

He's created a menu that stands toe-to-toe with any other vegan restaurant in town.

"The food is important but it’s the space," he said, nodding to two customers. "She has her juice. He has his tea. But they feel great being here."

One question remained:

All these folks on the walls and bookshelves - heroes and visionaries and liberators - who impacts you the most?

He answered immediately. Took him only one step, one stride.

"My father," he said. "He's the reason for all this. He gave me the work ethic to get this done."

It's always been the striding, the stepping outwards, the longing towards something:

Inside Bohemian Village, you can taste and feel it.

"Freedom," he said, "is believing in your imagination. Trusting your intuition. Following your dreams. Building with your family. Investing in your community and creating a better world."

Story ideas, questions, feedback? Interested in partnering with us? Email: david@foodasaverb.com

This story is 100% human generated; no AI chatbot was used in the creation of this content.