If you know, you know. For nearly 20 years, the Gizzard Store—okay, fine, it’s technically the food kitchen inside of Manor Food Mart #1 —has been serving up some of the best fried chicken, fish, and gizzards this side of Austin. And yes, I know the kitchen inside the store doesn’t even have an official name, but if you were familiar with East Austin back in the early 2000s, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
It’s the hood’s version of Cheers, except there’s one guy and no one knows each other’s names, but a nod to the man at the frying station and he’s got your plate ready.For me, it was a rite of passage. Leaving LBJ High, I’d grab some snacks or my friends’ favorite gizzards (not for me, dawg) before hopping the 37 Cap Metro bus to work. It was a constant, the kind of place that felt like home even if you were just passing through.
My partner, who doesn’t even care for fish, once came home grinning ear-to-ear with a plate from Medyn. “This is good fish!” he said, as if he’d struck gold. I just laughed and said, “You got that from the Gizzard Store? He’s still there? Wow, I had no idea.”
A Heartbreaking Goodbye
But now it won’t be. And I’m wondering if we’re ready to let it go.
A few weeks ago, my partner told me about a typed note that was taped on the display. It stopped me in my tracks:
“Dear Customers, I want to thank you for being the biggest part of my journey; they want me to end this coming January 25. It been almost 20 years together; I came to this hood having no family, and you all became mine. Am leaving my heart and memories here.”
I’m not sure what it was, but something tugged at me. I realized I’d seen this man for over two decades but didn’t know his name. Medyn—yes, the Medyn, the man who’s been frying up fish and chicken since 2005—is saying goodbye. He’s been here through it all: the highs, the lows, and the endless waves of gentrification that have reshaped this neighborhood into something almost unrecognizable.
A Cultural Institution
When I think about Medyn and the Gizzard Store, it’s not just the food that comes to mind. It’s the memories. It’s the feeling of walking into a place that hasn’t been polished into sterility, where the fryers pop and sizzle and the smells wrap around you like a hug.
A Space That’s Bigger Than Food
Medyn’s note wasn’t just a goodbye; it was a love letter to the community that embraced him when he had no one. He spoke about the Black, Hispanic, and Indian families who made him feel like he belonged. He talked about the challenges—needing new equipment, dealing with a landlord who didn’t seem to care, and the costs of upgrading just to stay open.
And honestly, I get it. The world’s not set up to keep places like this alive. The fryers are outdated. The gas supply isn’t right, and let’s not even get into the cost of doing business in a city that seems hellbent on pricing out its culture.
But what the Gizzard Store represents is bigger than the food. It’s the essence of Old East Austin—the part of the city that hasn’t (yet) been erased by shiny condos and overpriced coffee shops.

What We Can Do
I’m not gonna lie—I don’t know what the solution is. Maybe it’s time for Medyn to move on, to find a new spot where the fryers and gas lines don’t fight him every step of the way. Maybe someone steps in and saves the day with a miracle donation. Or maybe, just maybe, we show up every day until January 25 and remind him that he matters to us.
All I know is this. Sometimes we find out about things, and it’s too late to do something about it. So here’s what I’ll be doing. I plan on dropping by the Gizzard Store, grabbing plates like it’s 2005, and I just got off the 37 bus. I’ll be telling everyone I know to do the same, and I’ll be saying thank you—thank you to Medyn for showing up, for sticking it out, and for reminding us that not everything has to change.
A Goodbye Worth Showing Up For
Austin is weird, eclectic, funky, and hood. And Medyn’s Gizzard Store? That’s all of it wrapped in foil with a side of fries.
If you’ve ever had a plate from the Gizzard Store, you know what I’m talking about, and if you haven’t, well, now’s your chance. You’ve got until January 25, 2025, at 4 p.m. to experience a piece of Austin history. Let’s make it count. Because when it’s gone, we’re not just losing a food counter—we’re losing a part of who we are. See you at the Gizzard Store.
‘The Gizzard Store’ is located inside of Manor Food Mart #1 at 6700 Loyola Ln., on the corner of Manor Rd. and Loyola Lane. Operating hours are 10 a.m.–4 p.m. through his last day on Saturday. Come hungry. Leave grateful. And don’t forget to say thank you.