Hot Dish Review

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

It didn’t work last year so we had beef stirfry to start off 2012!
This year I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Many cultures believe that it’s lucky to eat certain foods on New Year’s Day, so after brunch at Diesel, LC and I ordered their “superstition sampler” to go….collards, black-eyed peas, rice, corned beef and cabbage.

Then we stopped by Kroger for provisions, including an acorn squash to roast later. (Not that it’s lucky or anything, I just wanted to experiment with it.)

When we got back to my place, I noticed the sampler’s cornbread was missing, but otherwise it looked tasty. A box full of good luck for only $6! Later, I transferred the contents onto a plate and re-heated it in the microwave, serving it with the roasted acorn squash (recipe tomorrow!).

The collards weren’t nearly as flavorful as those at Whole Foods, and the peas with white rice were expectedly lackluster, livened up somewhat by the tangy cabbage. In a blind taste test I would not have guessed the meat was corned beef, it tasted more like the ham that was on my Benedict earlier….no complaints about that.

The sampler isn’t so much about flavor as it is about results. All I can say is….immediately after consuming the superstition sampler I got lucky! LOL

HAPPY NEW YEAR HOTDISH READERS!

There’s nothing worse than a chain restaurant with a menu so all-encompassing that it is literally a book….except for an imposter that tries to emulate this concept.

With pages of sandwiches, pastas, entrees, soups, and the tell-tale cheesecakes, Copeland’s dishes mimic those of the dreaded Cheesecake Factory, served in epic portions seemingly designed to triple diners’ cholesterol levels.

Sadly, this appeals to much of middle America. Over 100 menu items, including 16 flavors of cheesecake, gives the illusion of “something for everyone” when, in fact, common sense will tell you that it is impossible to execute that many dishes well. It’s hit or miss at best.

Among the horrific choices are two kinds of “pasta pizza bowls”, linguine, seafood, and sauce served in a cheese pizza bowl. Are you serious? Aunt Gladys can forget about getting into her Walmart bikini.

I met LC and little T at Atlantic Station recently to shop at H & M. It was lunch time and the options were somewhat bleak, so we did what most people would do….went to Copeland’s.

With the original four locations in Louisiana, the restaurant offers several Cajun and Creole dishes. But the menu also represents Italian, Mexican, and Asian cuisines, as well as homestyle Southern fried chicken and meat loaf.

Marathon holiday eating left us wanting something light so LC tried the Thai shrimp wrap while little T and I both ordered the chicken and avocado club on toasted brioche. His side of onion strings and our sweet potato fries, however, tipped the scale toward indulgence.

Our plates arrived with enormous sandwiches and overflowing with our greasy sides. I immediately noticed that our chicken clubs were not toasted, but rather grilled, requiring multiple napkins. Inside the butter-soaked exterior, the sandwich was layered with generous amounts of lettuce, tomato, avocado, Swiss cheese and bacon. The grilled chicken breasts, although tender, were overly salted.

On the other hand, the sweet potato fries were quite good, with a sweet glaze lightly drizzled over them. LC’s onion straws provided a satisfying crunch and flavor, but were room temperature upon arrival. Much like our sandwiches, the filling of his wrap was much better than the wrap itself, made with tough pita bread. I took a bite and noted that the shrimp tasted fishy, only slightly disguised by their surrounding lettuce, scallions, and crispy Asian noodles.

Our server, bless her heart, listened to our complaints and sent the manager over, who comp’d two of the three sandwiches. And then, per her training, she asked if we had room for cheesecake. No sweetie, not today….not ever.

265 18th Street 404-815-8800

A holiday rerun, exactly one year ago….Pizza, and who makes the best, is a subject that elicits a great deal of passion from practically everyone. How can anyone claim to be the best? Some folks like it saucy, others like it dry. My parents like cracker-thin crust while my neighbor prefers hand-tossed. The battle between New York and Chicago styles is legendary, each camp fiercely loyal to their pie.

Antico Pizza Napoletana has received more press, mostly positive, than any other new pizza joint in recent memory. Their artisan pies are STG certified “Verace Artiginale” by the European Commission’s Istituto Mediterraneo di Certificazione.

Owner and pizzaiolo Giovanni Di Palma hails from New Jersey and New York, via his obvious Italian heritage. A visit to his grandparents’ village near Naples inspired him to open Antico in October of 2009, using flour from Molino San Felice made in the village of Cimitile.

Antico means “ancient”, and Di Palma adheres to the methods and traditions of true pizza di Napoli, hand-kneading the dough daily and charring the pizzas in one of three hand-made Acunto ovens, world renowned for their intense 900 degree heat contained by ancient Santa Maria brick and volcanic rock from Mount Vesuvius.

Specific ingredients are required for the pizza to be STG certified, including fresh Mozzarella di Bufala from Campania and San Marzano tomatoes.

LC and I visited Antico last Friday, needless to say with a few preconceived expectations based upon all the hoopla. Housed in a free-standing white brick building, the space is industrial, yet exudes a certain warmth, no doubt from the hot-as-hell ovens, and from the man himself, who brings his passion for pizza to the table every single day.

Still without a liquor license, we picked up a six-pack of Peroni and I toted a chilled bottle of Lambrusco….gotta keep it real! The original main dining area is separated from the kitchen only by the counter where Giovanni and his pizzaioli toss and top the dough. Enough wooden picnic tables are available to seat around 60 people comfortably and there were likely that many there on Friday. Each table has a big roll of brown paper towels and plastic cups. Who needs fancy? We relaxed with our drinks and waited as the speakers belted out Italian opera…..classic.

We tried two pizzas, the first a Margherita, topped simply with Mozzarella di Bufala, fresh basil, and San Marzano tomatoes. I had heard Antico’s pizzas were “wet” so I was a bit worried. I’m not a fan of saucy pizzas, and I like the crust extra-crispy.

Giovanni himself brought it out and cut it at our table. It was a big pie, perhaps 18″, so I was impressed that the center was not soggy. However, the ratio of tomato to cheese was certainly heavy on the tomato. In keeping with the casual service, the pizzas are served on metal sheets on brown paper.

Our second pizza was the Capricciosa topped with mushroom, artichoke, prosciutto cotto, and bufala. LC discovered the condiment table with hot pepper flakes, pickled hot red peppers, and parmesan and got us some of each. We both preferred this pie, especially with the addition of more spice! But I found that once I had eaten the central part of a slice, I was left with about 3″ of crust, so I had amassed a pile of “ends”. LC, on the other hand, ate all the crust, causing him to feel “full of dough” later….LOL.

I was on my third slice when Giovanni pulled up a chair at the end of our table, poured himself a glass of my Lambrusco, and started talking about his passion for pizza, commenting “It’s a lot more than great pizza. Look around the room, everyone’s got a smile on their face. Nobody’s texting, they’re enjoying the experience.” So true.

You may have guessed by now, it wasn’t my favorite pizza ever, but I loved the atmosphere. From the music to the frenetic pace of the smiling pizzaioli in the kitchen, Antico feels authentic. Perhaps I would return for the Bianca, or white pizza, with four Italian cheeses. Or maybe I would try of of their calzoni that are so enormous they are cut into individual servings.

But our experience wasn’t over yet….

The biggest culinary revelation of the evening, and perhaps of the year, was the cannolis. Ever since I ate one at a deli in New York, I’ve hated them. I mean loathe them. Quite a bit has been written about Antico’s cannolis so I knew I would have to try one. I thought we’d just take one home to be polite but Giovanni insisted I needed to eat it immediately after he made it.

Di Palma’s cannolis are fresh. He makes the thin, crisp cookie shells and fills them with old fashioned cream that is remarkably light and ethereal. He brought over two huge cannolis, one with chocolate chips and the other flavored with Nutella. I took a bite. Damn! Not even the same species as those tiny, hard, stale things in New York filled with disgusting frosting.

That was my first real cannoli and I can assure you it won’t be my last. The best in Atlanta? Damn straight. But the battle of the pizza pies will surely rage on.

1093 Hemphill Avenue 404-724-2333 (phone orders accepted)

Ditto for 2011….

There was a time when Red Lobster was almost fine dining. On weekends the lobby would be full of men wearing suits, waiting for a table with their families, their wives dressed in skirts, well-behaved children in tow.

Well, those days are gone my friend! Foul-mouthed unkempt white trash was the standard as me and my family waited for a table this Christmas Eve. Screaming kids are usually seated next to us these days, but we got lucky this time.

We used to go to fancy restaurants on Christmas Eve but one year we ended up at Red Lobster, and we’ve been going there ever since….sort of a bastardized tradition at this point.

The restaurant’s decor used to be more nautical kitsch, but they’ve toned it down a bit over the last decade. No more enormous plastic fish or nets, just dark wood walls, and tables dimly lit with dock lanterns.

Our dinner began with salads, Caesars with balsamic dressing on the side. A basket of those addictive cheddar garlic biscuits came out. We tried not to eat them, but the temptation was too great.

My Mom decided to go light and ordered the glazed salmon with broccoli. Dad got the rock lobster, shrimp scampi, and grilled shrimp. I ordered the Maine lobster, grilled scallops, and grilled shrimp combo with a baked potato on the side, although the combos now come with rice pilaf….how 1989!

I asked our server the difference between Maine and rock lobster and he said the rock could be tougher at times. However, it turns out that variety is also much larger. Oh, well. Everything was drenched in butter and cooked perfectly. My Mom’s salmon was OK. At least she didn’t leave stuffed like me and my Dad.

Sure, Red Lobster’s reputation has evolved over the years but if you can look beyond the abysmal atmosphere and unsavory fellow diners, you just might get a delicious lobster!

I’m a city chick. I grew up in a small town and expect little from them in way of culture, diversity, sophistication….you get the picture. So Imagine my surprise when a colleague and I visited several locations in Cartersville and discovered a thriving mini metropolis….Mayberry style.

The new part of town near the interstate was as unimpressive as any suburb, with every ubiquitous retailer and restaurant chain you can think of. It was the quaint historic town center that charmed us.

Driving through it we spotted a cute corner store and deli and decided to stop for lunch there rather than Chic-fil-a. Called Swheat Market, the space was country chic, with mix ‘n match repurposed furnishings creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. But unlike its country cousins, this deli was on trend, using all organic produce, also sold in their market along with other natural products. And there was no shortage of patrons, dining on specialty sandwiches, soups, and a selection of vegetarian options.

Being unapologetic omnivores, FP chose the grilled chicken salad sandwich and I couldn’t resist their classic BLT, made with extra-thick sliced peppered bacon, and lots of fresh L and T, piled on toasted sourdough with gobs of mayo. We split a side of sweet potato fries which were unfortunately on my plate, so chances are the split wasn’t quite fair. The bread that held our sandwiches together was pleasingly crispy as were the sweet potato fries.

If you find yourself in that neck of the woods, give it a try. All I can say is….swheat!

5 E. Main Street, Cartersville, GA 770-607-0067

A lovely dinner….
Pour a glass of wine, sit back and relax folks….this is gonna take a while. Nine courses with wine pairings plus a couple of “gifts from the chef” spanned a solid four hours.

Finding the Quinones Room is somewhat of a treasure hunt….BB and I followed the signs, walked through the breezeway, and down the stairs to the door with the big Q. Neutral curtains parted to reveal an elegant seating area furnished in shades of chocolate and cream. The intimate dining room is to the right with only ten tables covered in white linens. Antique mirrors, Venetian glass chandeliers, and lacquered wood frame chairs with a vintage patina lent a quiet air of Southern moneyed aristocracy.

At first, the service seemed too serious for my taste. There was a selection of water and the delivery of four mini cheese bread sticks before our server, Rafael, introduced himself in a barely audible hush. We would be having the prix fixe menu with the wine pairings….a multi-course marathon that began with a kir royale.

Bread service arrived on a wooden skewer. Various sizes and kinds of bread, from sourdough to onion, complimented by soft, sweet cream butter.

Two mini cheese gougeres were devoured tout de suite, as well as a shot of celery root soup with red onion jam, both gifts from Chef de Cuisine David A. Carson. Little bites that packed big flavor.

Krug Grand Cuvee champagne was poured in advance of our first course. I knew it would be a crudo, something ultra-light. Atlantic blue fin tuna, sashimi style, and Kumamoto oysters were paired with tiny cubes of Asian pear, slivers of radish, the bowl decorated with droplets of shoyu, a type of soy sauce. This would be the only dish I didn’t really enjoy.

For lack of a better monicker, the “drink boy” came by with a 2005 sauternes for our next dish, a foie gras terrine. I commented to BB that I usually prefer foie gras seared. I also noted something peculiar….the drink boy once again short-poured my wine. Perhaps that is a standard practice in fine dining? To pour an almost imperceptibly short glass for the lady at the table.

A square plate came out with a square of the foie gras terrine, accompanied by three, questionably four, preparations of Fuyu persimmon and a little mound of spiced cocoa nibs. There was a persimmon puree, a dollop of persimmon preserves, and a slice of candied persimmon. I believe the streak of orange-y powder along the side was freeze-dried persimmon, but I could be wrong. Each little bite of the decadent foie gras was immaculate, with a smudge of sweet persimmon. What could make it even better you ask? Four baby popovers made with a mild cheese and the slightest hint of sweetness. Heaven.

A row of tiny Nantucket Bay scallops sat upon a cauliflower puree, each one topped with black pearls of caviar. Sauvignon blanc, fresh with hints of grapefruit, paired nicely. Rafael had loosened up as I quizzed him about his former employment. Turns out he has always worked for Quatrano and Harrison, the pair that own Baccanalia, Floataway, Abbattoir, and Star Provisions.

Loup de mer, a simple white fish, was made stunning with its toppings of earthy black trumpet mushrooms and baby potato chips made with fingerlings, all resting on a bed of melted Spring onions. Chardonnay was the obvious choice for wine.

Now things would take a turn for the rich, heavy, dark. Drink boy poured glasses of a 2007 pinot noir from Willamette Valley as the dance of service continued with unwavering steadiness. Truffled cabbage and Jerusalem artichoke provided the creamy base for a chunk of braised veal cheek, so tender it fell apart at the mere sight of my fork. But first BB and I sliced into the crispy veal sweetbreads that crowned the meat, lightly fried in a coating with a hint of nutmeg. He loves sweetbreads. If they were always this good and tender, I can see why. Although small, the braised veal was filling, containing quite a bit of fat. It was a very rich dish.

The menu listed loin of loin next. Huh? We chuckled…..was it loin of lion? Hilarious. Turns out it was venison. Louis M. Martini Reserve cabernet sauvignon was poured….still short. Glazed young vegetables like Brussels sprouts, carrots, and beets were scattered beneath two thick slices of roasted venison, cooked perfectly medium rare. Unlike the veal, there was not a speck of fat, yet the dense meat was succulent and smooth, the outside of the roast coated with a spice rub containing a hint of clove. A dollop of caramelized onion stole the show…I savored every sweet bit of it.

On to the cheese course, a segue into dessert. Cumberland, a medium bodied cheese with little holes, reminded me of fontina. It was paired with Ellijay apples, both preserved and cubed, and young arugula.

Time for dessert wine, what appeared to be a Spanish tawney. Our first dessert (yes, there were two!) was a glass cup layered with cranberries, brown sugar streusel, then toasted meringue, providing intense tanginess, crunchy sweetness, and fluffy chewiness, a crazy combo of textures.

Our final course was two dense cubes of Valrhona chocolate ganache with a small scoop of frozen chocolate custard on the side. The best part of the dessert was the thickened sweet potato puree, sprinkled with crispy chocolate nuggets.

Quinones Room lived up to the hype, the seamless execution a study in precision, both in service and in the food itself. Was it the best meal I’ve ever had? Quite possibly.

1198 Howell Mill Road 404-365-0410

‘Tis the season to get fat…..
Few things are better than fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, especially on a chilly night. Served with an ice cold glass of milk, they are the antidote to the winter blues as well as that tiny bikini you think you’ll be wearing in a few short months!

Since I was a kid, my favorite has been the tube of dough, usually Pillsbury. Sure, I know it’s pedestrian. I can’t have Babette’s dried cherry tart with creme fraiche all the time!

The dough used to be dense enough to slice, then cut into quarters but they’ve changed the consistency so now it is best handled with a spoon (which often ends up in my mouth rather than on the cookie sheet!)

These days one can find all natural cookie dough at Whole Foods. And there are gluten-free mixes too (I think SAVI Urban Market might have some). Pillsbury and Tollhouse both make chocolate chunk, flavors with nuts, and ready-to-bake varieties but why mess with a good thing? I like the old-fashioned roll of dough. Baked until chewy and just starting to brown.

It’s cold outside so just snuggle up with a dozen warm chocolate chip cookies….f*ck the bikini, you can join a gym tomorrow.