The gastronomical gurus we love to watch on the Food Network had to have been born with wooden spoons stuck in their mouths. That bunch of Crème de la Crème food choppers aren't just good, they're incredible. Give them an olive and they'll whack it into fifty tiny pieces in less than a nanosecond and make it taste like foie gras. I'm impressed, but Barbara Jean laughs at the notion.

"That may apply to some of the great chefs, but the rest of us got to where we are with a lot of hard work and creativity. And just so you'll know, I am not a chef. I'm a cook. I'm a really good cook."

Her accomplishments are impressive, but she is far from big headed. In fact, she may be the most unassuming successful restaurateur in Georgia.

When this soft-spoken, diminutive woman looks at you, it's as though you are IT, the only other person on the planet. With her eyes fixed on you, she listens hard and learns, which may account for her extraordinary success. You have to wonder if she ever burned the toast.

"Oh, believe me, I've had some monumental failures. Let me tell you about my first big one.

"I was eighteen years old when my parents went on vacation and left me in charge of my five gastronomically unenlightened siblings. I decided to show off by preparing a leg of lamb seasoned perfectly with slivers of garlic and fresh rosemary. It was absolutely beautiful and I was tickled to death.

" 'Where's the gravy,' " my brother asked when we sat down at the table. By that time, I was into playing Julia Child to the hilt, so I bolted back to the stove and whipped up some gravy so my brother would be happy.

"It took all of 30 seconds for that gravy to lose its shine and turn into a gel on his plate. A minute later it became pure granite and I burst into tears. I couldn't eat a bite. To this day, my brother loves to tease me about what he calls my UNgravy!"

"That's IT? You messed up the gravy? You call THAT monumental?"

Barbara Jean shrugs. "What can I say? I like to experiment, but I never forget my mistakes."

"Well then, tell me this: what was the first thing you made from scratch," I ask.

"Bloobs."

"Excuse me?"

She giggles. "Blueberry Muffins using fresh berries and real butter. I was fourteen and I'd read the recipe in the New York Times. The next morning I woke up early, picked fresh blueberries and we all enjoyed my homemade Bloobs for breakfast."

"My recipes are good," she says, "but meals can be made even better when they're personalized. They should be as personal as poetry. You don't have to be a cooking guru to be an artist in the kitchen."

When she and husband/business partner Jim discover something wonderful in another restaurant, they never ask for the recipe.

"Where's the sport in copying somebody else's creative efforts? I like doing my own thing."

Give this woman a challenge, and then stand back and watch as she purses her lips and wrinkles her brow. Before you can say Emeril Lagasse, her brain is cooking up another Barbara Jean original.

The intimate St. Simons restaurant, as well as the other Barbara Jean's peppered around South Carolina, Florida and Georgia, is known for great comfort food. The meat loaf, pot roast and mashed potatoes are made from scratch and tastes like what mama used to fix. Think Blue Plate Specials, heaping portions of down home food made to order. Top it off with some signature Pumpkin Bread or B.J.'s Chocolate Stuff.

These cozy, nearly always packed to the rafters restaurants are as unpretentious as the owners and the food they serve. You may need to stand in line for a little while for a table, but it is worth the wait. Eat at a Barbara Jean's one time and you just might think you're back home with your mama.

Trust me on this.