Omnivore Atlanta

AMUSE: The charred octopus with seaweed

Certain restaurants evoke sweet memories. One is Anis in Buckhead. I lunched there every Friday for years with friends and still often do. Another evocative one no longer exists — at least not in its original form. I’m referring to Café Diem, which was replaced by Après Diem.

Café Diem was a favorite for light French food and an evening of listening to poetry back in the early ’90s. Created by Andy Alibaksh, it was the city’s most boho setting, and it seems that people enjoyed working there as much as hanging out there. There’s even a Facebook page titled “I worked at Café Diem Atlanta, GA, and still remember some of it.”

Among those who worked there was Arnaud Michel, who went on to open the aforementioned Anis (and several other restaurants) with business partners. Now, he has teamed up with Alibaksh, to open Amuse (560 Dutch Valley Road, 404-888-1890), an Anis-style bistro in the space vacated by Allegro.

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(Photo by James Camp)

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LUNCH WITH FRIENDS: Bocado's dining room

Bocado (887 Howell Mill Road, 404-815-1399) is the latest restaurant to open on the city’s Westside. Its location — across from Octane, at the corner of Howell Mill Road and Marietta Street — is the first evidence of the way the restaurant typifies a significant shift in the city’s restaurant community. The Westside is booming — at least compared to more expensive real estate in the city. Lower rent and smaller spaces are essential to most restaurants’ survival in this economy.

And that’s also produced a shift in restaurant appearance. Bocado’s design is by ai3, the people whose first project was the (defunct) Globe, my favorite interior in recent years. They’ve also designed 4th & Swift, Holeman & Finch and the particularly wonderful Flip.

Rather than the theatrical, large spaces that typify the Johnson Studio designs (Aria, Two Urban Licks), for example, ai3’s are spare in utilization of uncluttered open space, but the firm also employs natural (and recycled) materials that conversely add an intimate glow, especially after sunset. Communal tables also seem to be part of ai3’s play with space.

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(Photo by James Camp)

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HAMMING IT UP: The jamón Ibérico at the Iberian Pig

I’ve spent a lot of time in Spain, mainly in Sevilla. My favorite restaurant there is Casa Salva, a hole-in-the-wall near the Museo de Bellas Artes. It’s been a few years since I visited, but it was open only 1-6 p.m. and the menu was mainly a list of specials that changed daily.

The Spanish love of ham becomes clear as soon as you gaze through restaurant windows anywhere in Spain and see hams festooning the ceilings. But it was at Casa Salva that I began to see the true dimensions of that love. The owner often came to my table and — no joke — recited the pedigree of the ham he was featuring that day. He told me where the pig was raised, on which side of a certain mountain, what it ate and how the ham had been cured.

So, it’s no surprise that I was excited to visit the Iberian Pig (121 Sycamore St., 404-371-8800) in Decatur. It takes its name from the famous black Iberian pig that is the source of arguably Spain’s finest ham. The restaurant has been opened by Federico and Stephanie Castellucci, the husband-wife team who also own the three popular Sugo restaurants that specialize in mainly Italian and Greek food. The restaurant’s managing partner and chef is Chad Crete.

Continue reading “Grazing: A first look at the Iberian Pig”

(Photo by James Camp)

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THE DAILY GRIND: The Apache burger at Grindhouse Killer Burgers

The adult renaissance of the hamburger isn’t difficult to explain. Nothing (besides maybe pizza) comes close to fulfilling an aging population’s insatiable appetite for nostalgia. And God knows baby boomers are nothing if not nostalgic.

Then, too, there’s the recession. (I’m referring to the little depression that we keep reading is over.) Hamburgers are typically inexpensive, which is why McDonald’s is prospering in a wretched economy. Still, it’s a bit mysterious that if you scan the average menu of a full-service restaurant, the burger will usually cost less than dishes that have cheaper ingredients and require less time to prepare. I suppose the burger has simply retained its rep as cheap, no matter the quality of the contents.

The latest in the absolute epidemic of burger joints to open here is Grindhouse Killer Burgers (209 Edgewood Ave., 404-522-3444) at Sweet Auburn Curb Market.

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I recently re-read Satyricon, often regarded as the western world’s first novel, written by Petronius, a member of the court of Nero, toward the end of the 1st century CE. The longest chapter of the satirical book is a description of a banquet hosted by Trimalchio, a freed slave who has become immensely wealthy.

Although Petronius’ motives are controversial, it’s impossible to read the banquet description without thinking of  life in our own culture during the last few years. Generally, the banquet satirizes the excesses of the nouveau riche. Eerily, like dining trends in our own time, Trimalchio is interested in changing the form of food, dressing up offal and turning dining into theater. He’s even into local food – it’s all from his own estates – and he psychologizes dining by pairing his guests with dishes appropriate to their astrological sign.

It is a measure of our time that we observe most of these same phenomena and, with rare exception, regard them only as completely positive, undeserving of even mild critical scrutiny. But I’m taking my cue from Petronius for citing some of the most dubious dining trends of late.

Continue reading Grazing: The Satyricon and modern dining.

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MULTICULTURAL: The eclectic menu at Skewerz Pizza K

I’ve long maintained that a review, no matter how many times a critic visits a restaurant, is a snapshot in time. Things can change overnight. There are exceptions, of course. Fine-dining restaurants often maintain quality despite changes in ownership and kitchen staff.

An example of the latter is the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead, where Guenter Seeger began his career in Atlanta, then moved on to open Seeger’s. Woodfire Grill, opened by owner/chef Michael Tuohy, has maintained the same quality since Tuohy’s departure for California. Ditto, or largely so, for Joël after the departure of Joël Antunes for New York.

But smaller restaurants can easily be derailed by the same kinds of changes that big-monied venues take in stride. Then, too, there’s the problem of getting a thorough experience of a restaurant’s menu. This is especially difficult for me, since I’m usually writing first impressions or investigating a particular classification of food.

Continue reading “Grazing: Skewerz, take two”

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RAGUN CAJUN: The crispy fried catfish at Crawfish Shack Seafood

One morning, we are all going to wake up and find that we have turned the same color. A post-racial world will eliminate a significant portion of Americans’ conflicts. Until then, there is Buford Highway.

For at least 25 years, the road has been transitioning to an intense multicultural enclave best known for its ethnically diverse restaurants. Stop a moment to ponder the role of dining in the diminishment of ethnocentrism. Every visit to Buford Highway is an opportunity to cross a cultural boundary. Dining on delicious, unfamiliar ethnic food is a serious step toward the realization that ethnocentrism and racism not only oppress other people, they also limit our experience of much of the world’s beauty.

During the decades of Buford Highway’s transition, I’ve watched the cultural diversity blend ever more. It’s not just a matter of an authentic Chinese restaurant now. A few years ago, for example, I went to a Mexican restaurant that specializes in Chinese cooking. (A fist fight erupted while I was there.) My understanding is that there’s a restaurant in another area of town that features Indian-style Italian cooking.

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STEP UP TO THE PLATE: The scallops entree at Urban pL8

Remember when the only destination on the Westside was the Atlanta Humane Society? It was something of a shock when Bacchanalia moved there from its cottage on Piedmont a decade ago. Then Taqueria del Sol followed, and now the area is prime real estate for restaurants that cater to the downtown lunch crowd and the inhabitants of a zillion condos that stretch from 10th Street to downtown.

One of the latest to open is Urban pL8 (1082 Huff Road, 404-367-0312). Apparently, its location attracts restaurants with strange names. The first tenant there was Pangaea, a popular café serving sandwiches from around the world. I’m not exactly sure why Urban pL8 has chosen this abbreviation of the word “plate,” but I am aware that it’s spelled differently all over the place, sometimes using a capital ‘P” and lowercase “l.” Oh, well. As long as Top Flr or TOP FLR or Top Floor exists in Midtown, Urban pL8 is safe from having the most confusing name.

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ATMOSPHERIC: The rack of lamb at Atmosphere

“Have you seen Julie & Julia?” our server asked us as we took our seat at Atmosphere (1620 Piedmont Ave., 678-702-1620).

We explained that we had seen the film about Julia Child the day before and that it was, in fact, our inspiration to dine there. Atmosphere has consistently ranked among the best French restaurants in our city.

“You’re not alone,” the server, Andrew, replied. He explained that business had been booming since the film opened. I looked around the dining room and noted to Wayne that it wasn’t exactly a young crowd. It was more like … our age.

Like most Baby Boomers, I grew up with a mother who watched Julia Child’s cooking program on public TV. Michael Pollan recently argued in a New York Times magazine essay that Child, unlike TV’s current celebrity chefs, distinguished herself by actually teaching people how to cook. The Food Network’s chefs, Pollan wrote, mainly serve as performers. They cater to people’s love of eating, whereas Child catered to what Pollan identifies as the natural but disappearing love of cooking itself.

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VEGGIE TALES: The vegetable plate at Atkins Park

It wasn’t that long ago in the urban South that you heard can openers whirring in the summer heat.  My assumption is that people became so accustomed to the convenience and taste of canned vegetables, they weren’t really attracted to garden-grown produce.

When fresh produce did show up on urban tables, it usually came from the grocery store and was typically cooked beyond recognition — often to the degree that it was indistinguishable from canned food. I’m thinking about green beans in particular. Yellow summer squash was boiled and mashed with butter and bacon fat. Tomatoes, thanks to the miracle of hydroponic greenhouses, were mealy and flavorless year round. It was not until I was in my 20s, living in Elberton, that I tasted a garden-grown tomato.

Happily, restaurants have turned local produce into a virtual fad during the last few years. One of those is Atkins Park Restaurant (794 N. Highland Ave., 404-876-7249), well-known as the longest continually licensed bar in the city. The chef is Andrew Smith, who earlier worked for Scott Peacock of Watershed and Shaun Doty of Shaun’s.

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DEVIL IN THE DETAILS: The bar area at Rí Rá Irish Pub

Remember when Vickery’s was the only restaurant on Crescent Avenue in Midtown? It was considered an edgy location — the kind of place that magnetized urban hipsters, resplendent in black and redolent of cannabis. It was a great scene. Later, South City Kitchen opened on Crescent and attracted a more serious foodie crowd.

Now, more than 25 years since Vickery’s opened, the street has become the backside of the explosive high-rise development along Peachtree Street that real estate people call the Midtown Mile. It starts with the mixed use 1010 Midtown building, whose rear is home to three restaurants: Noon, RA Sushi and Rí Rá Irish Pub (1080 Peachtree St., 404-477-1700).

Rí Rá  is catty-corner to the new Joia (1100 Crescent Ave., 404-537-5000), which occupies one of the older buildings on Vickery’s side of the street. It has been opened by Marco Betti, owner of Antica Posta in Buckhead. Rí Rá is part of a large national chain. The two restaurants are, naturally, vastly different.

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ANOTHER DAY ANOTHER PIZZA: The margherita at Max's Coal Oven Pizzeria

As soon as we walked through the door at Max’s Coal Oven Pizzeria (300 Marietta St., 404-974-2941), several staff members shouted “Hi, guys! Welcome!”

I’m not sure if it was my response — looking around to see who they were yelling at — or their own discomfort with apparently being trained to impersonate Moe’s employees, but the bubbly enthusiasm quickly diminished. I was relieved. Contrived effervescence makes me hostile.

Max’s is yet another project of the gigantic Concentrics Restaurants group. In fact, it’s located next to Stats, the company’s sports bar. Wayne, being a statistical analyst, prefers to call it “the flagship of Atlanta’s burgeoning statistics community.” It’s located in a turn-of-the-last-century building with lots of brick and warehouse ambiance. It was doing quite a brisk business when we visited on a Sunday night, especially with large family groups.

Our server, John H., let us know that the restaurant features Georgia’s first coal-burning pizza oven. This actually is kind of a big deal. Coal ovens are popular in New York City where many regard them as essential since they reach a temperature of 1,000 degrees. John explained that the super-hot oven produces the blistery, charred crust that pizza aficionados crave. Or perhaps not everyone craves that. “I like to warn people that the crust is going to be kind of black,” John said.

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TOAST OF THE TOWN: Chicken liver on toast at Rosebud

Rosebud (1397 N. Highland Ave., 404-347-9747) is the new name of Food 101 in Morningside. Executive chef Ron Eyester bought out the co-owners recently and rechristened the restaurant. The name derives from one of the guitars played by Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead.

Ordinarily, any reference to the Grateful Dead is immediately alienating to me. I used to write an annual column in which I invited people to send me their tie-dyed clothing to destroy in a ritual bonfire. I usually got far more angry e-mails than clothing.

There is nothing very Deadhead about Eyester’s restaurant. A few cosmetic changes, including fresh paint and refinished tables, have been made, but the effect remains elegantly cozy, a feeling that is reinforced by an unusually good staff of friendly servers who can talk articulately about the menu. Lizzie is server of the week.

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(Photo by James Camp)

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“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” our server yelled. She had just dumped a glass of water on our table and it was trickling into my lap to produce that unmistakable look of adult incontinence.

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne said as about five men attacked our table with their rags.

“She told me she was going to do that,” one of them said.

We laughed. Ha ha. The server was still pleading for forgiveness. We told her not to worry. Mistakes happen. “We are amused.” I asked for some tonic water. She left to fetch it.

We were seated on the patio of the new RA Sushi (1080 Peachtree St., 404-267-0114). Open about three weeks, the restaurant already seems to be something of a hit. The vibe is youthful, the look is Disney-meets-Vegas-in-Tokyo. This is part of a chain out of Arizona and it seems to be quite popular in all nine states where it’s opened.

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The latest entry in the city’s pizza war is Nonna Mia (980 Piedmont Ave., 404-532-2815), a Sicilian-inspired café that’s part of a new chain out of New Orleans.

The restaurant has taken over the space last occupied by Sweet Devil Moon and many others before that. In the 1970s, when I lived a few blocks from there, it was the original location of Proof of the Pudding, now a huge catering company, which at the time also served unique sandwiches and salads.

In my recollection, the longest-lived restaurant here after Proof moved was the Big Red Tomato, a New York-style Italian café with an entertaining vibe and fairly good food. Nobody has succeeded with the location since.

I might as well say at the outset that the pizza here simply does not measure up to the standard prevailing in the city now, thanks to Varasano’s and Fritti. We ordered one of the signature pies, the Siciliana, which is topped with roasted red peppers, prosciutto, kalamata olives, mozzarella and tomato sauce. Sounds great, eh?

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(Photo by James Camp)

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER: Vegetable crunch sandwich with chicken

The recession poses particular problems for the restaurant trade. Before it arrived, many of us were eating dinner out several times a week. At the same time, we’d become sensitive to the health effects of what we eat and come to appreciate a “green” perspective in a restaurant’s management.

The problem, as anyone who’s seen McDonald’s sales figures knows, is that eating healthy and worrying about the environmental impact of a restaurant’s takeout containers is a lot easier when you’ve got plenty of disposable income. It isn’t lack of willpower that so often makes poor people obese. The simple fact is that the unhealthier food is, as a general rule, the more affordable it is.

So it’s no surprise that we’re seeing a sudden spurt of fast-food restaurants offering healthier choices. These restaurants frequently offer vegetarian alternatives, along with the chemical-free meat of humanely raised animals. They also operate as green businesses, mindful of their effect on the environment.

Continue reading “Grazing: Evos and Sprouts Green Café”

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Remember the ‘70s? Probably not, but if you were dining out then, you remember the revolution in Atlanta’s restaurant scene, courtesy of the Pleasant Peasant. Owners Steve Nygren and Dick Dailey opened the restaurant on Peachtree in Midtown in 1973. It featured creative cooking, an informal atmosphere and theatrical waiters who flashed blackboard menus in your face and recited the menu.

The following year, Nygren and Dailey were joined by Bob Amick (whose father gave his name to Mick’s, the Peasant Group’s retro diners). Eventually, the Peasant Group spawned 40-odd restaurants that were sold in 1989. The chain was so pervasive that both John Kessler and Meridith Ford Goldman, food writers at the AJC, worked for it during their respective restaurant careers.

Continue reading the Grazing on 30 Tables.

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Here’s a scene from my early career. I was living in a small town in rural Georgia, a place where my big-city senses underwent continual shock. One very early morning, I awoke to the sound of screams. I’m talking blood-curdling screams. They seemed to come from several directions.

I threw on some clothes and hopped in the car. After all, I was a reporter and it appeared a mass murder was underway. What I found was that people were engaging in an annual ritual of the first freeze: butchering hogs. I’ve never forgotten the sound and the bloody scene I observed.

I suppose I am overly sentimental about animals. After that experience, it was many months before I could eat pork. I went years, too, without eating veal when I saw the conditions of crate-raised calves.

(Photo by James Camp)

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In this economy, nothing succeeds day-to-day like the formula of the neighborhood pub: good food, low prices and lots of booze.

That — and quite a crowd — is what you’ll find most evenings at P’cheen (701-5 Highland Ave., 404-529-8800, www.pcheen.com). The restaurant opened three and a half years ago and, in retrospect, probably deserves classification as one of the city’s first gastropubs.

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I was beside myself. The woman behind the counter at Taqueria El Sori inside Fiesta Foods (2839-2863 Buford Highway) extended me a little Styrofoam cup, repeating the words “rico, rico.”

I took the cup and speared a piece of the meat with my fork. The outer layer of skin was slightly springy and covered with a relatively thick layer of fat that melted in my mouth as I chewed. But there was also a bit of meat clinging to the morsel. It was moist with peppery broth and slightly chewy, flooding my mouth with the taste of fresh pork. I speared a chunk of green chile in the broth in which the meat was cooked. It was mildly hot and almost sweet.

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MMMMM, CHARRY: The Margherita pizza at Varasano

Enrico Liberato is the new chef, the pizzaiolo, at Fritti. Like everyone else obsessed with pizza in our city, he had to visit Varasano’s Pizzeria (2171 Peachtree Road, 404-352-8216) in the new sky-scraping Mezzo building in Buckhead.

Varasano’s, in case you’ve been living contentedly under your homemade Chef Boyardee pizzas, has received more media buzz than any restaurant in memory. Jeffrey Varasano, the restaurant’s owner, became something of an Internet celebrity after he moved to Atlanta and began blogging his efforts to re-create the pizzas he ate regularly in New York City.

Food bloggers have been singing his praises for at least a year. And the New York Times and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution both ran major feature stories about him on July 2, 2008, after the writers attended one of the private parties he frequently hosted at his home.

These parties were rather like public scientific experiments in which Varasano attempted to make perfect pizzas with his electric oven. They also, of course, were brilliant marketing for the restaurant, creating such anticipation that Varasano’s Pizzeria was effectively given rave reviews before it even opened.

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“Excuse me while I go to the restroom,” I told Wayne.

“Again?” he replied.

It was my third visit during our meal at Spoon (749 Moreland Ave., 404-624-4713) in East Atlanta. This Thai restaurant has been opened by the same people who operate Spoon on Marietta Street in West Atlanta.

My continual visits to the bathroom had nothing to do with the usual reasons. I was already weeping and sneezing 24 hours a day because of pine pollen. But Spoon’s very spicy food had caused my sinuses to evacuate and my eyes to water even more. I had to run to the bathroom repeatedly to blow my nose with the intensity of a trumpet solo.

Honestly, I love hot food and I wince when I hear diners whining to servers that they don’t eat spicy. (“Then, why are you here?” would be the appropriate response.) But this Spoon, like the original, challenges my own tolerance. You have three choices – “medium spicy,” “hot” and “Thai hot” – and even the medium is capable of causing your mouth to sizzle.

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COMFORT ZONE: The boneless beef shortrib with horseradish cottage cheese at Serpas

“May I see your ID?” our server, Jason, asked.

Wayne and I looked at one another, incredulous. “Are you kidding?” I asked. We were paying for our meal — not buying alcohol — and in more than 20 years of reviewing restaurants and paying with a credit card, I’ve never been asked for my ID.

Jason grimaced and said, no, he wasn’t kidding. We handed him our IDs and he studied them closely, comparing them to our credit cards. Then he announced that all was well. Yay! We got to pay for our meals and we didn’t have to go to jail!

We were at the newly opened Serpas (659 Auburn Ave., 404-688-0040) in the mixed-use Studioplex in the Old Fourth Ward, which has become a favorite location for new restaurants. This may be the most ambitious undertaking in the neighborhood so far. (more…)

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GROUP EFFORT: It was a packed house at the new Tin Lizzy's in the days following John Henderson's murder.

The Grant Park community has been in a mixture of sadness and anger since the killing of bartender John Henderson at the Standard on Memorial Drive Wednesday, Jan. 7.

As has been widely reported, John was closing the bar with fellow bartender Ashley Elder when four young men broke through the front door. They shot John once in one leg and, as they were leaving, fired shots through the door of the office where the two bartenders were left. A bullet struck John in the head. He died a few hours later at Grady Memorial Hospital.

Wayne and I are regular customers at the Standard and John waited on us many times. He was a funny, energetic man. Like many others in the neighborhood, we felt like we were in a nightmare during the few days following the shooting. We were at the Standard last Monday for its regular curry special and the mood of the pub was subdued but it was good to see it busy. The front room was filled with flowers, candles and notes commemorating John.

Apart from the sheer grief, there’s also concern about the increasing crime in Grant Park and the city in general. Wherever we dined in Grant Park last week, people were talking about John and the need for better police and private security. The murder at the Standard was exceptional but the armed robbery was not.

One thing seems certain, though. The event isn’t keeping people from dining in the neighborhood’s restaurants. In fact, we’ve had waits at the newest spot to open, Tin Lizzy’s Cantina (415 Memorial Drive, 404-554-8220). Tin Lizzy’s, the child of a Buckhead restaurant with the same name, is located in the space recently vacated by Six Feet Under, which has moved to a larger space half a block away.

Not much has changed about the space that I noticed. There’s still a large and very crowded bar. The interior architecture is unchanged. The restrooms are still too small.

I was prepared to hate Tin Lizzy’s. (more…)

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BITTERSWEET: The brown sugar cake with grapefruit at Craft

Here is what William Grimes, former dining critic of The New York Times, wrote on June 27, 2001, not long after the opening of Craft:

“Craft invites diners to take a trip. The destination is a simpler, cleaner, more honest America, a place where the corn is bright yellow, the bread exhales clouds of yeasty sweetness and the fish swim in water as pure as Evian.”

What is it about Americans that we are always engaged in utopic yearning? Grimes’ words seem almost trivial until you read mention of the year 2001 and unavoidably think of the nation’s apocalyptic loss of innocence in the attack on the World Trade Center.

And yet, even now, in the midst of the worst economic times since the Great Depression, we are looking more zealously than ever for purity and transcendence at the dining table. We have become Proust, munching on a madeleine whose first taste prompts him to write: “And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me, it was me.”

I can’t lay claim to a either Grimes’ or Proust’s experience after my first meal at the new Craft Atlanta (3376 Peachtree Rd., 404-995-7580). Undoubtedly, this will cause some to gasp. We’re talking a major pedigree and, dammit, I wanted to transcend the vicissitudes of life and become a precious essence. (more…)

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