Hot Dish Review

Any afternoon with sunny blue skies is a delight, but one at the end of January is particularly delicious. And it was Friday. A brief lunch escape from the office would do me and LC good.

We went to Mazzy’s down the street….a cavernous sports bar with more space than personality, and a staple of my coworkers. Dart boards and pool tables are ready to provide amusement to guys that have no chance of gettin’ laid.

It had been a super-stressful week, so an ice cold Miller Lite was in order. Mazzy’s menu didn’t hold any surprises. Appetizers like chips and queso, quesadillas, and chicken wings are expected at any sports bar, but ’90′s throwbacks like loaded potato skins and fried mozzarella sticks made me chuckle.

Sandwiches, burgers, and a short selection of entrees (items used to make sandwiches, served on a platter without the bun) make ordering pretty simple. I chose a turkey burger with jack cheese and fries. LC duplicated my order, except with cheddar.

Our burgers were gigantic and covered with melted cheese. We dressed our buns with mayo (served in to-go packets), and each took a big, juicy bite. Skin-on fries could have been crispier, but they did the trick nonetheless.

There was nothing to complain about at Mazzy’s, likewise nothing to rave about. I guess that’s the definition of suburban mediocrity.

7160 Jimmy Carter Blvd. 678-822-9888

One recent afternoon, just at dusk, I stopped by my friend BB’s upscale pub and restaurant, There, under construction at Town Brookhaven off Peachtree.

A few behind the scenes photos and a shot of tequila later, BB and I found ourselves at another newish restaurant in the development called Stir Crazy….a clever, yet silly name for the obvious, an Asian restaurant specializing in stir fry. Another corporate concept, this one can be found in twelve states, from Texas to New York.

Diners can create their own combination of veggies, protein, and sauce, or order off the menu, a la carte. The usual suspects like Mongolian Beef and Kung Pao Chicken share the laminated page with specialties like Bangkok Noodles.

BB and I ordered sake, hot for him, cold for me, and a couple of appetizers to start. Vietnamese lobster rolls were an upscale take on the classic basil roll, with rice noodles, cilantro, julienned veggies and peanuts, with chunks of real lobster meat. Regardless, the flavor failed to stir me crazy.

Wok seared tuna sashimi melted in our mouths, flavored with soy wasabi sauce over a salad of grilled shitake mushrooms and arugula. Very nice.

We decided to split an entree enticingly called Blazing Noodles, flat wheat noodles, snap peas, carrots, scallions, and Fresno peppers, and fresh basil in a spicy chili sauce, choosing beef as our protein. The requested sriracha sauce wasn’t even necessary, as the dish was adequately spiced….unusual for a cookie-cutter restaurant that likely appeals to the masses.

Although not a laminated menu kind of guy, I’m sure BB will find himself dining at Stir Crazy frequently during those long, long restaurant hours soon to come.

804 Town Blvd. 404-855-4437

That’s what you’ll be hearing from savvy suburbanites and horny hausfraus (rumor has it the handmade bar is outfitted with vibrating barstools!) in Brookhaven. My friend BB, an Ivy League Wall-Streeter, tossed out his Oxford shirts and strapped on a tool belt to build his new upscale pub and restaurant, slated to open its doors to someone other than inspectors and alcohol distributors very soon.

Not only is BB hands on during the design and construction phase, he has also been cultivating his own organic produce nearby, including heirloom tomatoes and figs. Did I mention he’s also a CIA trained chef?

Unpretentious, local, and fun, There recreates the relaxed vibe of The Spotted Pig in Manhattan. The prime corner space is more glass than sheetrock, with modern furnishings to match. Burgundy leather booths add warmth to the otherwise cool space, lit by green lamps that cast a supernatural glow along the dark wood bar.

Chef Ryan Hickey, last serving as Todd Ginsberg’s sous at Bocado, will be manning the kitchen, serving up goodies like boar sausage and smoked trout deviled eggs. My sneak peak at the menu revealed signature burgers served on Holeman and Finch breads and salads that promise to rival the city’s best.

I’m hoping to see BB’s truffled lobster mac and roasted Brussels sprouts on the menu this Winter….pure comfort food!

305 Brookhaven Avenue, in Town Brookhaven complex

Here is the evidence….from three different sources.

First of all, I grew up five minutes away from McKee Bakery, the biggest employer of (mostly) unskilled labor in the Collegedale/Ooltewah, TN area, and the maker of Little Debbie Snacks. As a child I ate the sugary snacks on occasion although I didn’t really love ‘em. I guess I knew deep down they were evil.

Here’s a little tidbit of trivia for ya from the Richmond Times-Dispatch: “About 70 percent of the nation’s military-age young people cannot enlist in the armed forces because of inadequate education, criminal records or physical problems.”

SEVENTY PERCENT!!

My cousin SW told me this sorry statistic yesterday and I confirmed it just now. And why, you ask, are the youth of this country so pathetic? Well, for one, they are obese lazy motherf*ckers that sit around and eat Twinkies and Cheetos all day. It’s not all their fault, though. The government is allowing manufacturers to get away with feeding us poison in our everyday foods. Chemicals like MSG, and food coloring like red #40 are commonly used.

SW, who has worked at McKee for years, corroborated a story my Dad told me, about the “recycling” of baked goods that, for whatever reason, did not pass inspection.

The story pertains to Oatmeal Creme Pies in particular. My Dad says he used to see other employees throwing rejects into the batter, incorporating the already baked product into the dough. Apparently it is easy to disguise this in the somewhat chunky oatmeal cookie.

He thinks they even recycled the old snacks picked up from store shelves that were approaching stale, replaced by fresh new boxes, but my cousin has not seen this in action. He has, however, witnessed first-hand, boxes of snacks that did not meet specifications being thrown into vats of batter, which is made up primarily of shortening, white flour, and high fructose corn syrup.

Oatmeal Creme Pies are full of emulsifiers like sorbitan monostearate, polysorbate 60, and sodium stearoyl lactylate which are also used in skincare products. WTF? The FDA thinks it’s OK to use these substances in moisturizers and snack cakes. Insane.

Each Oatmeal Creme Pie has 170 calories, 7 grams of fat, 26 grams of carbs with less than 1 gram of fiber. There is literally no nutritional value. If I ate a box of 12 snacks every week for a year and changed nothing else in my diet I would gain 35 lbs!

My Dad also recounted the ingredients of the coating used on any of the products that are “chocolate covered”…..shortening, chocolate flavor, and sugar. No actual chocolate.

Then, coincidentally, BW added in that he was doing a job there once in the bakery’s “lab”. He was curious as to why a bakery would need a lab so he invited one of the ladies to dinner to get more information. They were testing ingredients to discover which were the most addictive. That was in the ’80′s!

Jesus Christ. What a perfect example of big government and “science” working together to profit from making Americans obese, feeding on ignorance. Shame on you Little Debbie. You deserve a big fat Knuckle Sandwich with an Oatmeal Creme Pie for dessert!

That’s what’s on the door at Ormsby’s, the location chosen by L for her birthday celebration. The burly dude checking ID’s gave me a hard time about carrying in a bottle of champagne (L’s gift), as if we would drink it unchilled. What are we, heathens?

Decor is cozy at this neighborhood tavern, enhanced by lots of wood and dim lighting, but it was difficult to note details since the place was packed full of young patrons trying hard to look like they weren’t trying. LC was conspicuously absent as I joined our table for about 20 guests directly beneath the stairs near the bocce court.

My only prior visit was a late night accident with B, finding ourselves inebriated at the bar downstairs. I ate something but have no recollection, so I was excited to finally try their reinvented pub fare.

As we played musical chairs, chatting and catching up, our server ran her ass off delivering cocktails one at a time. I started with a Guinness draft. L ordered hummus and pimiento cheese fritters for the table as we perused the menu which includes a whole section devoted to wieners….gotta love wieners. The fried balls of melted cheddar didn’t impress me, but the hummus was a winner.

Entrees ran the gamut from a short rib (the priciest item at just $18) to shrimp and grits. I cannot believe L’s husband PC didn’t order it….it’s his MO. But instead, he ordered the bangers and mash, 2 big housemade brats with taters and green beans. He gave out samples to me and BH, his best friend (and one of my coworkers) seated next to me. I found it more fatty than flavorful, making me happy that I went with the chicken wrap, an odd dinner selection for me.

Although not a dish I would order, I was more impressed with BH’s fish ‘n’ chips. Flaky cod beneath crispy batter, a dash of vinegar, and a plate full of skin-on fries.

The birthday girl shared an order of chicken and dumplings with one of her pals. The very thought of dumplings makes me gag. Needless to say, I didn’t try it.

As for my wrap, it was full of roasted chicken, chunks of freshly cut avocado, crispy bacon, tomatoes and sprouts, each ingredient’s distinctive flavor coming together to make the perfect sandwich (which unfortunately didn’t photograph well). My side of sweet potato fries weren’t fries at all, but rather wedges. I would not have ordered them had I known, but my ignorance turned out to be bliss as they were sweet and spiced just right.

And what’s a birthday without cake? I ordered a round of chocolate cake shots at the end of the evening….delicious.

1170 Howell Mill Road 404-968-2033

Wish I was on my way somewhere exotic right about now….With an evening flight one never knows if dinner will be served. I booked my trip to Rio too late to upgrade so I was stuck with an overnight coach flight. Hense the drinks and stash of pills. Who the hell can sleep sitting bolt upright? After my extravagant meal at One Flew South, I didn’t really care if they served Spam and Twinkies.

So, did I happen to mention that I’m the luckiest bitch in the world? As I boarded the Delta flight I resigned myself to my lot for the next 9.47 hours in seat 24A. But there was someone seated there, he showed me his boarding pass with that assigned seat. Hmmm, baffling. I checked my boarding pass and it said 2F. Score! I had been bumped to first class. I love first class.

I sat next to a guy named J. We were greeted with champagne, about to dine like kings on real food. With real utensils. Along with a noise canceling headset, cozy socks, chapstick, moisturiser and other sundries found in the seat pocket, there is a menu. Passengers are asked to order while still at the gate, sipping champagne. I kicked off my Nikes and relaxed.

I know from experience that you get all of the appetizers, regardless which one you request. No matter, eat a bit of each. J and I ordered and proceeded to love the cream of asparagus soup. However, we were also presented with the cured salmon with seaweed salad and the greek salad of feta cheese, cucumber and olives with balsamic vinaigrette. Ten minutes later, the only thing that remained on my plate were the sliced cucumbers. You all know I hate cucumbers.

There were four entree selections; seared mahi mahi with lemon butter sauce, asparagus and paella rice, three cheese vegetarian spaghetti carbonara, or the grilled fillet of beef bearnaise with mashed redskin potatoes and sauteed green beans for the hot entrees, and roast beef, herbed shrimp with a deviled egg and grilled peppers and artichokes for a chilled choice.

J ordered the fillet which I’ve had before and is truly the best option, however, already laden with pork and still not feelin’ the fish, I opted for the carbonara. It was alright but J’s entree was much more photogenic (see above). He was one of those guys that doesn’t eat veggies so I ate a few of his green beans.

I enjoyed several glasses of the 2008 MontGras Carmenere Reserva from Chile with my meal. Remember….the wine glasses, although made of glass, are tiny, about the size of a tasting glass. J had a Coke.

Dessert offerings are always the same in first class….your choice of cheese and fruit with crackers or a standard ice cream sundae with all the fixin’s. Vanilla with chocolate or strawberry sauce, chopped nuts and whipped cream, garnished with a pirouline cookie. I usually get both but having already had a three course meal I opted for just the cheese and fruit. And more wine.

No sleeping pills required as I fully reclined, covered with my thin comforter and plush pillow. About 6.25 hours later J said “somebody got some sleep!” as I awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. Breakfast Miss P? Yes, please! Coffee, scrambled eggs (nuked,of course), bacon, and bagel or croissant (I had both), plus French toast. I could have had the oats of honey granola with yogurt or just fruit and bread. I could have had the whole lot had I asked for it. Did I mention that I love first class?

After a riotous week in Rio, a glorious get-away in Gloria, a brief love affair with Leblon, I was (almost) ready to go home. Sure, I’d miss the acai and the frango fritters, the agua de coco and the copious canned cerveja, but it was time to say goodbye to Brazil.

Would I, could I be so lucky on the return flight? 35G. As I made my way to the back of the plane my fate was sealed. Dinner was a choice of chicken or pasta. I chose the chicken served with gnocchi, a tomato-ish sauce, sauteed spinach, a small salad with a packet of Italian dressing and a cracker with cheese spread, and bread and butter. I paired my meal with a can of Miller Lite. A chocolate chip cookie in a wrapper for dessert. Classic.

Breakfast? I slept through it (yes, this time I had to take the sleeping pills and sleep curled up like The Bunny on the seat), however woke just in time to walk to the back of the plane and get the nuked croissant, banana, granola bar, OJ, and a coffee before landing.

I was dreaming of farofa and favelas….monkeys in the rain forest and men wearing yellow feathers in the subway. I was dreaming of Brazil.

It was New Year’s Day so LC and I thought we’d visit the new Diesel in his neighborhood. Last year we ordered their superstition sampler with black eyed peas, ham, and collards. These foods are supposed to bring you luck.

But alas, it was not a second location of the Virginia Highland’s favorite, but rather a pizza joint. It’s just as well, the majority of our luck in 2011 was bad, so we were probably better off without the superstition sampler.

So we were left wandering the burbs in search of something open. It was too late for lunch, too early for dinner, so we settled for a bar and restaurant where we could watch football and share a snack. That’s when we spotted Loco’s Grill and Pub. I’ve seen the location at Loehmann’s Plaza for years with no urge whatsoever to go inside. But they were one of few places open, so we were in luck.

The first thing I noticed about the space was the smell of smoke. I find it incredibly weird that smoking is allowed in bars in the uptight suburbs, but not in the city of Atlanta. They try to divide the smoking room from the non-smoking, but the smell always seeps through the cracks.

We settled into a booth in the bar and ordered a couple of huge, cheap Miller Lites. Then LC noticed they had Keno….some harmless gambling to entertain us during lunch.

Their menu was typical pub fare, with a selection of burgers, some Tex-Mex items, and the ubiquitous wings. Come to find out, Loco’s is another damn chain, with 17 locations in the Southeast and one in Missouri. Isn’t anything original any more?

Nothing thrilled me on the menu, so I let LC decide. He ordered the blackened chicken sandwich with provolone, lettuce, and tomato on an onion roll, called The Rooster. I added bacon for excitement.

The sandwich boasted a thick chicken breast but was relatively unimpressive. Onion rings on the side were crispy and not greasy, but the serving was scant.

2012 will undoubtedly bring us luck….the question is, will it be good or bad? I hope LC’s loss in Keno wasn’t a sign of things to come.

11770 Haynes Bridge Road 770-751-9898

A sad goodbye to the scene of much debauchery….
It’s hard to believe I haven’t reviewed Bluepointe until now. The restaurant is an Atlanta staple and the scene of so many memorable (and crazy!) evenings. Like crashing (former) Dallas Maverick’s Steve Nash’s private birthday bash upstairs and my own private birthday bash several years later, complete with champagne and lobster.

As I’ve said in a recent post, I’m a sucker for tradition. Or perhaps I’m merely a creature of habit. I always get the lobster at Bluepointe. In my many visits I have tried practically every dish until I discovered the lobster. Since then, I’ve been loyal to the 2lb. shellfish in curry.

The peanut crusted grouper is awesome and so are the scallops. The calamari appetizer used to be very spicy and amazing but it has become increasingly boring over the years with the predominant flavor being soy.

And ever since me and AD attended a Veuve party at Bluepointe I can’t seem to order anything else to drink there. Many bottles have been consumed since then.

My visit to Bluepointe last night was an exercise in irony. Or deja vu. I was wearing the blue dress, the same one I wore to my birthday dinner. I had champagne and lobster. And I was with LC….just a different one.

Seated at one of the more intimate tables near the bar where me and AD used to sit, LC was somewhat intoxicated and rather ravenous. I asked for a dish of the rice crackers they used to have at the bar but was disheartened to learn they no longer serve them. I would have dumped the snacks in my purse just for old time’s sake!

We started off with edamame and ordered two more appetizers to share. Wanting to try something different I chose the calamari salad. Although it has been many years, I always associate fried calamari on greens with one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants in New York called OG (Oriental Grill). Theirs was a perfectly assembled dish of impeccable field greens, fried calamari, and a slightly sweet Asian dressing.

I was impressed with Bluepointe’s version, with tempura calamari, arugula, sweet mango, crispy apple, cashews, and razor thin radish slices, lightly dressed with a subtly sweet Asian vinaigrette. A perfectly balanced composition, both in flavor and texture.

LC wanted to try the short rib wontons in umami broth. Umami is the culinary buzzword de jour, loosely translated as indescribable deliciousness. The Japanese are so cerebral. Three wontons filled with beef swam in a brown broth. Sorry, no umami, just a fistfull of salt in the overwhelmingly soy based broth. More champagne.

We had much better luck with the dependably delicious curry lobster. Served with baby asparagus, bok choy and Asian long beans in a slightly spicy yellow curry, it was as succulent as ever. The enormous lobster makes two generous entree portions. As a side, LC couldn’t resist the corn mash, yellow corn with lots of butter, which turned out to be his favorite dish of the evening.

For dessert I went back to my usual chai creme brulee. Not a fan of lemon sorbet I asked to substitute the orange sorbet which came out in a fun cube shape. The candied ginger on top of the crispy sugar really makes it special. We scarfed it down, along with another glass of champagne.

Now we were ready to dance!

Remember when the holidays were a time to relax with family and friends? That’s right….when you were a child. After that, it’s all financial hardship and stress.

Once family time was over, B and I had a chance to exchange gifts and enjoy some adult beverages and conversation. A bottle of Gloria Ferrar Brut started off the evening by my gorgeous phat tree.

Then we were off to one of our favorite spots, Top Flr, but alas, it was Monday and they were closed. B suggested another of our old haunts, Livingston, just a mile down the street. Perfect! Although chances were not good that our buddy Zeb, the chef, would be working the day after Christmas.

We had little company aside from our friendly bartender. But we were in luck to visit on Millionaire Monday, Zeb’s special two course dinner for $18 every Monday which features such rich dishes as lobster and steak. B and I decided to order one of each and create our own surf ‘n’ turf.

But first, we sipped an impressive red that was spicy and deep. A spinach salad with gorgonzola, vidalia onions was drizzled with candied bacon vinaigrette provided a simple and satisfying start.

We ordered the filet medium-rare. B requested it on the rare side and after some thought, I agreed. Best too rare than overcooked. Our plates arrived, thoughtfully kitchen split. The baby filets were unfortunately cooked medium with no rare in sight, but the lobster was perfectly poached. It was a meal that could have been decadent if it weren’t so light.

The bartender topped off our glasses as we chatted. Just then, a gentleman (and I use that term loosely) appeared at the bar. He and his new bride were apparently staying at The Georgian Terrace for their honeymoon. Dressed in a garrish pinstripe suit, he was a minister, and needed advice on what alcoholic beverage to buy for his new bride. We suggested champagne so he ordered “the cheapest one”. His ridiculous demeanor made us laugh, but it wasn’t until his departure that we noticed a flyer he had left outlining the services he offered through his business, Non-Negotiable Ministries.

Valuable services such as Prophetic Miming (who doesn’t need that?), Preaching (of course) Food Catering, and the all important Armour Bearing (WTF?), all available regardless of race, creed, or policy. What if your policy is not to hire ghetto preachers?

Best of all, his food catering business is called Fix-It Preacha. I swear. Even me and B couldn’t make that up!

(If you are interested in honing your prophetic miming skills, just contact me, I have the minister’s number.)

659 Peachtree Street NE 404-897-5000

B is addicted to Groupon. She’ll buy anything that’s a good deal….golf lessons, restaurant coupons, clown suits. Once you buy it, you are obligated to use it, no matter how ridiculous it might be. But her recent purchase of a $35 food voucher at La Fourchette for a mere $17 was not ridiculous at all, so we made a reservation for Saturday night.

La Fourchette mean “the fork”, a reasonable monicker for a place that serves French inspired cuisine that one should probably eat with a fork….or does it imply something more?

The restaurant’s sterile glass exterior on busy Piedmont Avenue belies its simple yet inviting space, warmly lit and full of young and trendy diners. B arrived tout de suite and we proceeded to order a couple of glasses of inexpensive bubbly. Cheers!

We had so much catching up to do we almost forgot to look at the menu. Among the list of ten appetizers, a couple intrigued her and a couple intrigued me. I would have tried the smoked trout tart with pink lady apples, or even the foie gras despite its unfortunate au torchon preparation, especially since it was paired with roasted black mission figs and brioche, but it was the pan roasted sweetbreads that made both B and I salivate.

Served on a smudge of slightly bitter fennel puree, and slightly bitter kale, the sweetbreads were thickly sliced and perfectly accented with sweet and tart cherry confiture…a bit of each on my fork reminded me that the generous portion and overall deliciousness made it worth the hefty $16 price tag. There went half our coupon already!

B and I moved on to red wine, giving a spicy red zin a try, at $12 a glass. Our server recommended the grilled loup de mer. B often orders fish so she took his advice. It was served with leeks, crispy fingerlings, and saffron emulsion. She loved the little discs of potato. My bite was tasty but hardly memorable.

I thought momentarily about the bistro steak frites with sauce bordelaise and the grilled pork loin, but was predictably compelled to order the duck confit instead.

Two thigh and leg portions with nicely crisped skin were placed upon a generous heap of black eyed peas and leeks. I was looking forward to the leeks but the side was really just peas…and their eyes were green. It was an odd choice to pair with duck. Much like pork and foie gras, a sweet accompaniment somewhere on the plate is always a nice contrast to rich duck meat. Ironically, the veal was served with apricot puree and brocollini….probably a better match with the duck.

I rarely order chicken because, well, it’s just chicken. But La Fourchette’s roasted chicken with local okra, tomato confit, bacon, and basil puree sounds really good. Entrees ranged from a somewhat boring vegetarian plate with all the sides mentioned above for $18 to B’s loup de mer coming in at a whopping $32.

Much like the interior of the space itself, the duck was nice, just not compelling. Dessert, on the other hand, was a deliriously delicious plate of little square beignets tossed with orange blossom honey and sliced almonds with a bit of honey ice cream on the side. Crisp, light, and sticky, all at the same time.

I hate to belabor the point, but the expenditure at La Fourchette was surprisingly high, especially considering our $35 coupon. But we forked it over, with the sweet memory of the beignets and the last sips of cote de rhone softening the blow.

3133 Piedmont Road 404-748-1229