Hot Dish Review

This is truly the biggest and best news I’ve heard in a long while. Grant Henry is opening a bar in the former Danneman’s Coffee location on Edgewood, diagonally across from Sound Table!

He will call it (no surprise here) Sister Louisa’s Church of the Living Room and Ping Pong Emporium….Come on in Precious! Looks like he is currently trying to clear out the space using the “grab this shit while you can” method via Facebook. And yes, there will be actual ping-pong tables!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Grant Henry (what what?), he is a local Atlanta artist who’s alter ago is Sister Louisa. He has been bartending at The Local on Ponce for several years, voted “Atlanta’s Best Bartender” by Creative Loafing and The Sunday Paper (or so he says!).

My personal experience with Grant is mostly via his appearances in Hollis Gillespie’s hilarious essays, then meeting him at the annual Telephone Factory Lofts art show in December a few years back. Hollis used to hold her writing seminars there too. It was hilarious to see the looks on the attendees’ faces when they saw the walls literally covered with Sister Louisa art! That is where I purchased one of my favorite pieces….a paint by numbers kitty with bright red words over it saying “Jesus Loves Pussy”. Check out similar awesome blasphemous art at his website. And you will surely be subject to much of it in his new establishment.

Word is he plans to open the joint in the next few weeks or so….praise the Lord and pass the PBR!

Coming soon to 466 Edgewood Avenue

Day three of LC’s birthday/Labor Day weekend bash found us at Sunset Cove at Lake Lanier. Our group was supposed to dock there the night before but there were no spots big enough for the Cooper boat.

So after a day and night on the water me and LC planted our feet back on dry land and headed for the manmade beach at Lake Lanier Islands for a drink. Which turned into five or six, of course.

Frozen pina coladas with Myers rum floaters made for low-brow deliciousness as we celebrated the gorgeous weather on his birthday.

Drinkin’ makes us hungry! Burgers are required eatin’ on Labor Day weekend but first we were craving something spicy. LC wanted the firecracker shrimp. A plate full, butterflied and fried with a coconut breading then drizzled with a cloyingly sweet sauce with a little kick. Decadent for all the wrong reasons, these shrimp contained the trifecta of food addiction: fat, salt, and sugar. Served with celery and blue cheese, we cleaned the plate.

Sunset Cove is relatively new, just up the beach from the masses of houseboats full of bikini-clad chicks, dudes with mullets, and the professional partiers keeping their boats afloat in a lake of liquor, luring all the unsuspecting barely-legal dudettes with the promise of free shots. Sorta reminds me of guys with shag carpet and panelling in their vans. I can just hear ‘em now….”I got a cooler full of cold beer in the back!” Indeed.

As we walked to the restaurant we noticed several stands with drinks and one that offered burgers and brats. Once seated at Sunset Cove I figured we’d get a burger off the menu. But LC couldn’t resist a second appetizer and bought a brat on his way back from the long trek to the restroom.

This is all before the burger, which thankfully we split. Covered in cheese and caramelized onions (not shown in photo due to their late arrival), it was juicy, messy goodness. Onion rings were awesome, just not plentiful enough.

There is a huge bucket that slowly fills with water suspended menacingly above the waterslide next to Sunset Cove. If you wait long enough it’ll tip over, splashing (or drenching) everyone below. The path to the car went around the waterslide’s bucket but LC and I went under it, of course. Then to the car to throw on my swimsuit. How dare I put on a bikini after the meal I just described? Insanity perhaps.

We took a stroll down to the sand, got our feet wet, and made some new friends before making our way back for round two. Not remembering how we ended up at a table with some pretty cool people isn’t too surprising. I think they bought us margaritas. A stage was set up in the water and the band began to play as the sun set on a fun, spontaneous day at Sunset Cove.

Rumor has it that Kroger is opening up a Murray’s Cheese shop inside their Ansley location. Open since 1940 in New York City, Murray’s specializes in artisanal cheeses and specialty foods, catering to folks that know Humboldt Fog should never be wrapped in plastic!

That’s great news. But for now, I continue to rely on Whole Foods for a great selection of cheeses and accompaniments. Except for last Friday when I was running my ass off trying to get everything to make a great dinner for LC’s birthday.

I had the brilliant idea that I could get everything at Kroger so I picked up a piece of Taleggio, a tiny piece of aged Reypener and a remnant sliver of aged gouda. My leftover Humboldt Fog would be our fourth cheese, all served with olives, candied walnuts, honey, and dried figs. I found the texture of the Taleggio to be too firm, preferring the riper, creamier brand I usually buy at Whole Foods.

Kroger has a surprisingly decent variety of breads these days. Their Private Selection artisan Pugliese Petite Boule is crisp on the outside, tender on the inside and just the right size for two people, slathered with sweet butter.

Marquis Philips Sarah’s Blend was smooth and paired well with the cheeses. A birthday toast and it was time for dessert!

In honor of Labor Day, I wanted to post something helpful for all you grillers. I’ve discovered Sommers Organic Extra Lean Burgers in the frozen meat department at Publix (or was it Kroger?), and they rock!

Each package contains four 1/4 lb burgers, individually wrapped for convenience. The cattle aren’t shot full of hormones to make them grow bigger faster or antibiotics to control the infections caused by feeding them corn. In fact, they are actually grass fed, like the burgers at Yeah! Burger.

I’m really happy that Americans are finally becoming aware of the dangers of antibiotics and hormones used in foods, and making educated choices about what they put into their mouths. The trendy organic, sustainable restaurants are making an impact. If you haven’t seen it already, please watch Food, Inc. It is amazing the shit our government allows to be put in food….nasty fillers, chemicals. All to protect big pharmaceutical companies that line their pockets. It’s disgusting.

Back to Sommers burgers. I’ve made a few in a skillet, about 3 minutes per side for a perfectly juicy medium burger. At only 130 calories per patty, they are as friendly to your waistline as they are to the environment. The nutritional breakdown is 25 grams of protein, 3 grams of fat, and 2 grams of carbs.

I eat mine bunless on a bed of lettuce and tomato, with pepperjack and caramelized onions. What do you put on your burger? Try Sommers and tell me what you think!

Happy Labor Day!

With lines out the door every Summer, one might think the gelato at Paolo’s in the Virginia Highlands is an authentic taste of Italy. Paolo Dalla Zorza has indeed captured the atmosphere of so many tiny gelato shops in Europe, but I have often been disappointed with his product.

Having visited Europe on numerous occassions, I am a total gelato snob. When I’m in Germany I walk down to the gelato shop on the corner every freakin’ day. It has been owned and run by the same Italian family ever since I can remember. They go back to Italy in the Winter and return to the small town of Solms in the Spring to serve up authentic, amazing gelato.

Sometimes I think it’s the ingredients that make it impossible to duplicate here in the states. Other times I attribute the lack of authentic gelato here to the makers trying too hard to please the American palate with copious amounts of sugar and cream instead of milk. Then it’s ice cream, not gelato.

Paolo’s has enjoyed ten years of success due to its perfect location, a tiny space which is surely the lowest rent in the neighborhood, and the insurmountable draw of sugar to the kids on this very family-friendly street. There is now a second location in Charleston.

LC and I stopped in after our snack at Goin’ Coastal since it is right next door. It had been a couple of years so I was ready to give Paolo another chance to win me over.

Paolo’s offers authentic flavors like gianduia and zabione. My favorite is straciatella, basically vanilla with chocolate shavings. In Europe this simple composition takes on a more complex nuance, some intangible quality that makes it taste so much better there than it does in the U.S.

We ordered one waffle cup with a scoop of straciatella and one of espresso (I think). The texture of the espresso was too creamy, like regular ice cream, and also too sweet. I was quite pleased with the straciatella and I loved the edible cup!

His menu also includes crepes and creative treats like vanilla gelato extruded in strings and topped with strawberries. Called “spaghetti eis” in Germany, it’s a sweet take on the traditional pasta with marinara.

In Germany they use very small scoops pronounced “bellschen”. My regular order? “Ich moechte zwei baellchen von straciatella und eine von dem nuss, mit sahne bitte!” That’s straciatella and hazelnut with real whipped cream.

Seems like everyone’s in the gelato business these days. Whole Foods makes a totally bastardized version.

At least Paolo is trying to do something authentic, just wish it tasted a little more like the real thing.

1025 Virginia Avenue 404-607-0055

How do hotel restaurants do it? Breakfast, lunch, dinner, room service…..they constantly crank it out. Getting it done and doing it right, however, are two different things.

It is rare that I get the opportunity to have breakfast at a hotel in Atlanta. More often than not, hotel breakfasts find me in a foreign country like Spain, Mexico, or Brazil. However, after L and P’s wedding, the party continued until the wee hours at AltoRex, the rooftop lounge at the Palomar, after which everyone stumbled to their rooms. I didn’t have much time to enjoy the modern decor since most of my time there was spent asleep, wrapped up in the cloudlike duvet.

But not for long. My lucky ass had to get up early to go to work. But before I took off, LC joined me at Pacci for breakfast. It was 9:00am on a Sunday. Only two other tables were occupied. Handsome young servers greeted us with smiles. The coffee was smooth, and so was the service.

Pacci has a fun “Flip For Your Breakfast” menu. Guests that order off this only slightly abbreviated list get to call a coin toss after their meal by none other than Keira Moritz’ sous chef Aaron Love. Not only that, a portion of the cost of your meal goes to charity, regardless who pays. Classy.

One of my all-time favorite brunch items is eggs benedict. Pacci’s version is made with proscuitto, spinach, tomato slices, with the traditional Hollandaise on top of toasted English muffins. It didn’t come with anything on the side, which is fine with me. I’m not a fan of breakfast potatoes.

LC ordered two fried eggs with wheat toast. His meal did come with potatoes, but no bacon. We ordered a side to split….thick and chewy just the way I like it. If you are not lucky enough to be staying at the Palomar overnight, the bacon alone is worth the short drive for brunch!

My benedict was a solid rendition of the popular classic. I liked the slightly Italian touch with the substitution of prosciutto for the standard Canadian bacon.

It was time to try our luck with the toss of the coin. LC’s a gambler by nature so it was all or nothing. He called heads and our breakfast entrees were free! By this time several other members of the wedding party had made it downstairs to Pacci, just in time to witness LC’s lucky streak continue.

We both cleaned our plates before I sped off in the HotDish mobile. Pacci is in my Top Ten for a reason…..whatever time of day or night, they do it right!

866 W. Peachtree Street NW 678-412-2402

Having already had entirely too many margaritas at a wedding party, LC and I ended up at Goin’ Coastal, lured back by their addictive watermelon jalapeno margaritas. This time we sat at the bar for drinks and a snack.

My first impressions of Goin’ Coastal were mixed at best. Neither of our favorite dishes, the cheese grits or the cornbread pudding, contained seafood….an odd fact at a seafood restaurant.

So on our follow up visit, we decided to try one thing that we missed the first time, the crab cakes. Two fat cakes came on a bed of red pepper sauce and corn. They appeared to be slightly charred, but the flavor was anything but burnt. Lots of big chunks of crab meat and little filler made them a winner.

I couldn’t pass up a repeat visit with their stellar cornbread pudding. Baked in its own ramekin, it was delivered smoldering hot, straight out of the oven. I told LC it was too hot to eat but did he listen? No, he has a burnt tongue to prove it. The savory pudding manages to be dense and light at the same time with a touch of sweetness from the corn. Love it.

There are plenty of items on the menu I haven’t tried that may further redeem Goin’ Coastal. If nothing else, you can be sure I’ll be back for the watermelon jalapeno margaritas!

1021 Virginia Avenue 404-941-9117

As a follow-up to my post of Thomas’ sorry excuse for mini wheat bagels, I purchased a bag of Kroger’s mini cinnamon raisin bagels, one of the brands that I passed up the first time.

These bagels felt like bagels, promising the dense texture one expects. Plus, I love a hot toasted cinnamon raisin bagel with lots of butter….yum!

Each mini bagel has 100 calories. But I noticed that the size of the bagels varied quite a bit among the dozen bagels within the bag. The serving size states that it is 42 grams. Curious, I got out my scale and weighed a few of them.
Some were as small as 22 grams, but most were in the mid thirties.

I was surprised to read they have no fat. But there are a slew of preservatives and “dough conditioners”.

The conclusion? The texture and flavor are far superior to Thomas’ bagels. And I like the itty-bitty size, perfect for an (almost) guilt-free snack.

Farm to table is the hottest trend in dining. It’s funny because that’s how I grew up, eating vegetables right out of our garden. We would pick squash, beans, okra, tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, and whatever else was ripe, and cook it for dinner that day. Now that’s sustainable, organic, and local!

Of course, there was a surplus of some vegetables. My Dad intentionally planted more green beans than we could eat so we could can them for the Winter. I have great memories of days spent stringing beans in the backyard under the big old apple tree with my Grandma.

She taught my Mom the art of canning. Using a pressure cooker and Mason jars, it was a Summer ritual. Years later, my parents still plant a garden every Spring. But with their time split between Tennessee, Helen, and Florida, they’ve downsized the plot, only planting the necessities.

But there were still enough green beans for my Mom to can a batch or two this year so I snagged a couple of cans. As delicious as always, I ate the whole jar by myself!

When anyone asks my opinion on the best new restaurant in Atlanta, I invariably say Miller Union. Not only for its cool yet comfortable atmosphere but for its fresher than fresh local produce and chef Satterfield’s creative takes on simple Southern dishes.

I fell in love with Miller Union on my first visit with B, seduced by the fragrant broth that surrounded clams in a big white bowl, lured in by the richness of an egg baked in celery cream, comforted by the warm embrace of a rustic pear tart. Yes, every dish we had was truly stellar.

That was in the Winter. In fact, it was snowing the night we dined there. I mention this for two reasons: my folly in judging any restaurant based upon one visit is becoming evident, and I simply don’t like Summer menus nearly as much as Fall ones.

With a first meeting like that, disillusionment was sure to follow. Common sense would tell you that multiple visits to a restaurant, or anywhere for that matter, affords a more rounded experience, and therefore allows one to make a qualified assessment of the food, the wine, the service, the scene. But me, I’m the idiot that falls in love on the first date. Then I find out he is unemployed, married, stupid, or all of the above.

My second date with MU didn’t go quite as well as our first. It started off promising with an exceptional blueberry cocktail called Tangled up in Blue. Wanting to introduce my friend BB to my new love, I had high hopes that they, too, would find affection for one another.

Seasonal menus like MU’s feature local produce so naturally one finds awesomeness like apples, sweet potatoes, and Brussels sprouts in the Fall and Winter. Likewise, Summer menus are ripe with tomatoes, corn, and okra.

There is a special place in my heart for okra. I grew up eating fried okra just picked from the garden. My grandma, who was as Southern as poke salad, taught my Mom how to make it properly. Just like fried green tomatoes, I have a real disdain for improperly cooked fried okra.

But first things first. Seated at the bar, BB and I started off with a pork terrine served with pickled okra and their fantastic toasted bread. Not terrible although BB thinks he can find a comparable terrine at Publix.

The magical farm egg baked in celery cream also awaited my lips. I took a knife and pierced its soft yellow yolk, spreading the sublime mixture on the crispy sourdough. Pure heaven.

BB and I decided to split an entree. This is where things went downhill as we noted practically every dish featured corn and/or tomatoes. Fish and tomatoes don’t work for me so that automatically eliminated all the fish dishes. As we made our way down the list, we decided upon the chicken. And God help me if it didn’t come with tomatoes too, disguised as eggplant caponata! The dish was simply prepared. Too simple.

Our side of okra literally took me aback. Chefs deserve plenty of room for creativity. I don’t expect every Southern dish to be like my Grandma’s in Tennessee, as long as it’s good. Miller Union’s okra was not good. Whole okra with a thick beige coating (only flour, no cornmeal?) was neither delicious nor authentic. As BB and I nibbled on the deep fried vegetable, he noted how the batter “skin” could be pulled off. Unfortunately I had consumed several of them prior to this discovery.

Another cocktail was ordered and consumed. BB was on his second Pimm’s Cup.

Note: check out my method for making authentic fried okra by clicking here.

Southern desserts. For me, generally unappealling like the hideous traditional banana pudding or sugar bombs like pecan pie. Miller Union offers similar atrocities: coconut cream pie, lemon layer cake. Before eyeing the dessert list I bet my left forearm (yeah, I know that’s weird) that there would be at least one peach dessert on the menu, after all, what could be more seasonal than Georgia peaches?

There was just one, peach shortcake. If I could have chosen anything made with peaches, that would not have been it. So we opted for the two homemade ice creams of the day, ginger and caramel. I found the caramel so cloyingly sweet that I could barely eat it. BB liked it, however, I preferred the ginger. Neither compared to the ingenuity of the thyme, sage, and rosemary ice creams B and I sampled in the Winter.

I’m not going to break up with you MU. But I think we need some time apart, like maybe three or four months.

999 Brady Avenue NW 678-733-8550