Hot Dish Review

Another local favorite in Helen is the Troll Tavern, mainly due to its superior location beneath the bridge and along the river. In the Summer diners and drinkers at the Troll can watch as trampy teenagers in dirty string bikinis and other assorted riffraff float down the Chattahoochie in bright pink innertubes (ST and I included).

The food used to be pretty good, then became completely horrific, but now seems back to pretty good. Historically, I order the wurst platter with a knockwurst, bratwurst, sauerkraut and red cabbage but since I just had that exact meal the night before, I opted for a big fat cheeseburger. I really love cheeseburgers. And fries. Let’s see how the Troll stacks up to some of my Atlanta favorites!

The weather was improving on this pre-Spring day. ST and I tried the Paulaner Oktoberfest draft which we both really enjoyed. Maintaining the Bavarian theme, he ordered their Weiner schnitzel. Served with sauerkraut and red cabbage, naturlich! The crispy breaded schnitzel (I’m assuming veal) was better than I expected, quite delicious actually. I will order it on my next visit.

I ordered my burger medium. It was closer to well-done but still juicy. Topped with two slices of provolone, lettuce, tomato and gobs of mayo, the massive burger was pretty tasty. The double cooked fries were extra crispy. Troll scores a B+ in burger wars. ST didn’t want his cabbage so I was happy to eat it. Troll’s red cabbage is the best in Helen.

We shared a couple more beers as we watched the meandering masses on the bridge over the river, men with bellies wearing tight acid washed denim shorts from 1989, bikers in full gear, and your average chubby chick from Cherrylog.

All together, great people watching and great hangover food!

This restaurant is an old standby in Helen. I’ve eaten there dozens of times….with my Mom, with friends, take-out. Only today did I realize it is not Old Bavarian Inn, but rather Old Bavaria Inn. Robert, the latest owner, has maintained the highest standards of food quality. I think it’s the best German restaurant in Helen proper!

ST and I drove up to my parents’ place in Helen last weekend to continue his birthday celebration. We dined at Old Bavaria Inn Saturday night on authentic German fare. It had been a while since I had ribchen (smoked pork chops) und sauerkraut. I always loved it when my Mom made it when I was a kid.

I’ve often ordered the spaetzle with cream sauce and ham with a bratwurst for lunch. On this visit I couldn’t pass up this super fatty spaetzle appetizer. Rich, rich, rich.

Old Bavaria Inn offers all of your German favorites from Weiner schnitzel to sauerbraten. I opted for the schlachtplatte (meat plate)…..a selection of bratwurst, knockwurst, and ribchen served with red cabbage, sauerkraut and potato salad. ST ordered the rinder rouladen, thin beef filets rolled and stuffed with pickled veggies and served with red cabbage and spaetzle. Both entrees should come with a side of Gas X too!

The least authentic thing they serve is the potato salad. Not the traditional German style that is served warm, their version is decidedly American made with red skin-on potatoes and served chilled.

We washed it down with lots of beer….Warsteiner, Erdinger, Paulaner, anything that ended in -er.

Robert brought out a complimentary slice of apple strudel for ST’s birthday. They were out of the amazing hazelnut torte that me and my Mom always order….it is not to be missed!

We were stuffed! It was nice to be in Helen again.

Birthdays and tequila go together like PBR and tattoos. So I recommended we try a new taqueria down the street called Pure on ST’s birthday.

Located in Inman Park across from Fritti in The Grape’s old space, the vibe is cool and casual, trendy. The building has been renovated to look like a renovated garage, complete with big garage doors and vintage-looking signs. Retro 60’s formica tables complete the kitschy decor.

We started with a shot of Herradura silver, shaken with salt and lime. Smooth. I always get a Corona Light chaser. It was late, nearly 10pm by the time we got there (ay, caramba!). I was hungry and the tables are so close that I considered reaching over and sharing our neighbor’s chips, salsa, cheese dip, and guacamole, but our waitress came by so I ordered our own set.

Although slightly watery, the salsa provided an adequate kick. The “gringo” cheese dip was perfect with a dollop of jalapeno puree on top. These days it’s hard to find bad guacamole, unless it’s the pre-made crap at the grocery store. Most restaurants have figured out the standard formula, especially where they make it tableside, leaving little room for ridiculous Americanized variations with mayo or sour cream. Good, but not as good as mine! What was not to love here? The thick, boring chips.

Other appetizers that will cross my lips on future visits? Ceviches, chipotle steamed mussels, and crab fritters. I ordered a margarita with salt and enjoyed the atmosphere and the company.

Pure’s menu creatively covers all the bases without getting out of hand. Trios of tacos and entrees are served with arroz (rice) Mexicano and your choice of refried beans or “frijoles charros”, beans in a soupy broth. I’ve heard the pescado Veracruz is fabulous, but I’d probably be more apt to try the torta Cubana or quesadillas made with corn tortillas and sweet onions.

ST and I decided to split the gorditas de puerco. Two crispy corn-masa cakes stuffed with red chile shredded pork, queso fresco, and salsa verde. The meat was tender with plenty of cheese and salsa….really very tasty.

I can’t wait to return to try the homemade corn-masa tortillas with carne asada. I’m obsessed with finding tacos like the ones in Playa del Carmen a few years ago. The corn tortillas were kickass and the beef was insanely tender, topped with queso (at my gringo request), freshly made guacamole (just like mine), and a handful of cilantro. Perfect.

The staff and service at Pure was great! Our chick even brought out a complimentary birthday dessert, pineapple flan, for us to share. Sweet.

Now for the bad news. Just when you think you’ve discovered a quirky little taqueria, a funky little neighborhood spot….you find out it’s a franchise. There are only three now, but soon like will be multiplying like cucarachas!

The good news is, it made a pretty fuckin’ good first impression.

Once again, the signs for hot boiled peanuts on the way to Helen proved to be too tempting to pass by. ST and I stopped at my favorite stand on the way Saturday.

Dale has lots of signs. Coming from both directions, headed to or from GA400, it is hard to miss his hot boiled peanut stand. With two pots bubbling away, one regular, one cajun, we pulled over for a snack.

ST wanted the cajun. Good idea. Dale scoops them up in a giant styrofoam cup and provides a paper sack for the shells. Inside the sack are a couple of tiny Bible scripture booklets….classic. Eating them while driving (the peanuts, not the scripture booklets), however, proved to be quite challenging. ST said my driving became rather ‘iratic’. Whatever. No one died, that’s all that matters.

I wish I had taken a photo of his cat, a beautiful fluffy black boy that his grand-daughter named Hello Kitty Penny Dale….I swear, it’s true.

The cajun peanuts were delicious….just a hint of peppery spice. We finished them off when we arrived at my parents’ place in Helen, with a nice, cold Miller Lite. An appropriate start for the weekend!

JUST IN FROM CAREN WEST PR:

DAD’S GARAGE THEATRE PRESENTS THE 10TH ANNUAL BACONFEST ON SATURDAY, MARCH 27, 2010

Annual Fundraiser Will Feature Local Bands: Futureshock, Mike LaSage and the Stumbling Troubadours, The Jaguars, Nine Inch Neils, Baron Saturday of Judi Chicago DJ Set, and Performances by Dad’s Garage House Bands, The Fingering Brothers and Bases Loaded

Tickets On Sale Now

A Limited Number of $45 VIP Tickets Available

All Proceeds to Benefit Dad’s Garage Theatre Company

Atlanta, Georgia (March 4, 2010) – The 10th Annual Dad’s Garage BaconFest, a one-day event featuring live music, improv, games, beer, bacon and more, will be held on Saturday, March 27 from 1 to 5 p.m. at Dad’s Garage Theatre Company in Inman Park. A neighborhood tradition, each year Baconfest raises funds for the treasured mid-sized theatre that is devoted to elevating awareness about the arts in Atlanta.

Founded by Dad’s Garage co-founder George Faughnan in 1995, the meat-centric festival has grown to cult-like status, attracting a diverse and devoted legion of Atlantans each year. Building its following off a simple foundation of combining bacon, beer and bands, the festival also includes nonstop games. Past favorites include; Hunt an Improvisor, Guitar Hero Challenge, fortunetelling, X-rated face painting, and a malt liquor taste test challenge. Live music performances at this year’s event include local artists: Futureshock, Mike LaSage and the Stumbling Troubadours, The Jaguars, Nine Inch Neils, and a special DJ set by Judi Chicago’s Baron Saturday. Dad’s Garage’s house bands The Fingering Brothers and Bases Loaded will also make appearances.

In addition to the fun and games at BaconFest, festival goers can bid on an array of silent auction items donated by local businesses. This year’s silent auction will feature items donated by Dad’s Garage, Alternative Apparel, Cartoon Network, Adult Swim, Only You Tattoo, Third Half Studios, and many more.

www.dadsgarage.com

Hours after arriving in Rio, AD and I were at a sidewalk cafe on the corner called Churrasco Vila Rica. Neither of us speak any Portugese so even requesting a menu was a task! She had her phrase book which came in handy but it was Deborah, seated at the table next to us, who gave us loads of advice….about Carnival, food, and watching our backs in Brazil.

She helped us order something to share. We wanted authentic Brazilian food, the everyday fare that the neighborhood folks love. Churrasco is a thin skirt steak, not the most tender or high quality cut, especially since it was cooked well-done. But we couldn’t complain, it’s grilled flavor hit the spot. Served with black beans, rice, and batata frita, a.k.a. fries.

There was also a mystery dish. We noticed other diners sprinkled it on their meat or beans so we followed suit. No one, not even Deborah in her relatively decent English, could tell us what is was exactly. Turns out it is called farofa, a traditional dish of the region. Made of toasted manioc flour it usually contains bits of bacon. I still don’t get why they use it, but I was compelled to do the same….hell, there was bacon in it!

We washed it all down with lots of cold cerveja!

Street food is everywhere in Rio. You can count on skewered and grilled steak, sausage, and chicken. AD got a steak skewer one afternoon that was really delicious, dipped in farofa of course.

Vendors sold fruit, mostly bananas and mangoes, but also agua de coco, or coconut water. They literally slice the top off a coconut and insert a straw. Ironically, my Mom told me about coconut water recently due to it’s extremely high levels of potassium. It was 95 degrees most days during our visit in Rio. People get sweaty! Which as we all know depletes one’s potassium. And what is full of potassium? Bananas and coconut water. Just goes to show that folks are naturally drawn to what their body’s need.

It was Morocco that introduced me to the frango frita, a pear shaped fried dough filled with minced chicken. M would get one every day after the beach and soon, I too was in the habit. He would get the sugar cane juice with it, both for a mere 2.70 Reals (about $1.50).

Lots of juice bars and snack shops in our neighborhood, like Hobby and Chan, sold them. I preferred the ones from Chan. Although they were drier, they had an awesome green hot sauce that we drizzled on the fritters after each bite.

Our hostel was right around the corner. Time for cerveja! There was a cooler right there in the lobby so I would run down and get a beer and go back upstairs to the deck where me and AD would check emails, smoke cigarettes, hang with the gang, and make plans for the next day, all in the sweltering heat of Brazil. Um cerveja por favor! Obrigado!

Generally, I travel with a companion. However, meeting AD in Brazil last week, I was flying solo out of Terminal T. In search of an open currency exchange at Hartsfield-Jackson, I ended up at Terminal E (you know, E as in Edward. I think it would be so much better if it was E as in euphemism, but I also think Terminal T should be T as in tsunami).

Anyway, there I was….one chick, flying South. There was indeed a currency exchange on Terminal E, but they were out of Brazilian Reals. Directly across from the exchange was One Flew South, our airport’s new fine dining restaurant. I was supposed to review it for AFD when it opened last year but I had, ironically, flown South to Spain.

I love irony so I was compelled to dine there, taking a seat at the bar where Norm the bartender took care of me. The cocktail list was as creative as any chic spot in Atlanta, old-fashioned and travel oriented drinks. Jets to Brazil? Oh my God, how could I not order it! Made with cachaca, lime, parfait amour, and rhubarb bitters, I expected it to be a bit sweeter, like a caipirinha. But it was strong, a little funky tasting (the bitters perhaps).

One Flew South also has a sushi bar with a selection of rolls, nigiri, sashimi, and sakes to pair with the fish. Perhaps if I was going to Tokyo….

An impressive wine list includes Turley zin and Heitz cab. The space is sleek, modern, and decidedly unairportish.

Like a mind-reader, Norm recommended the very dishes I had my eye on. The theme? Pork. I started with the Benton’s bacon and Sweet Grass Dairy goat cheese salad that featured the herbie cheese spread beneath frisee (my favorite!) dressed with pink peppercorn vinaigrette. Thick, chewy slices of the bacon were divine. Basil poached pears added a sweet note to the salad.

I placed my salad and entree order at the same time, in awe at the speed at which the kitchen expedited orders for their customers, each one a stressed-out traveler with a plane to catch. Thyme roasted pork belly was crispy, fatty, and awesome, lightened up with a black-eyed pea and arugula salad, a smear of parsnip puree, and a touch of blackberry-onion marmalade. Norm suggested an Anchor Steam to follow my cocktail. Smart move.

The whole menu was intrigueing, from the pecan dusted scallops with sweet potato and cranberry hash appetizer (how did I resist that?) to the 1/2 pound Kobe burger with five spice fries. Both not a bargain at $16. The guy next to me didn’t eat his fries. They looked perfect….I almost reached over and grabbed them before they hit the bin, what a waste.

Breast of duck and portabella ravioli is just $22, while my pork belly came in at a reasonable $18.

Naturally, I could not resist the bread pudding. The drinks, and Norm, convinced me I had plenty of time! How about a Brooklyn Chocolate Stout to go with dessert? Yes, please! Alas, I didn’t love it. Made as a loaf, then sliced, I prefer my bread pudding baked with crunchy bits of bread here and there. Some creme fraiche would have helped.

Little did I know what was in store for me in the coming days, or even the coming hours. Find out what happens in the next installment of “Romancing Rio”.

Occasionally, although it is rare, someone has a positive influence on me. My neighbor LG recycles. She has offered numerous times to take my bottles to our condo’s recycling bins but I’ve always refused. I just couldn’t ask her to carry my bag of bottles down the stairs while my lazy ass sat on my kitty-shredded sofa!

January 1st, however, all that changed. Well, sorta. Among my New Year’s resolutions was that I would recycle glass bottles, beginning with the wine and champagne bottles from that night’s celebration. They sat on my kitchen counter for weeks, the collection growing larger and more unmanageable by the day.

It took a man to carry them down….finally. And the same man then proceeded to assemble a new collection every day. Looking at it, I felt good knowing all of this glass wasn’t going to add to the mountains of trash in the landfills. He even began including plastic….why not? Pisces are so conscientious.

The photo above is of my current collection awaiting delivery to the recycle bin. Much of it was from last night’s Superbowl. I wonder who I can coerce into taking it downstairs?

One of my other New Year’s resolutions was to post a certain amount of blogs each month. I hit my goal in January, hurray! The beauty of a blog is that one can say whatever they wish. There is no censorship on a blog. But I do employ a bit of restraint (more at some times than others), unless I’ve consumed a bottle of wine, which brings me to the title of this post.

Apparently I responded to a few comments while under the influence last night. I just hope there weren’t any typos.

PS – The OJ wasn’t mine, I never touch the stuff.

The promise of drunken comraderie is as much of a draw at ginormous sports bars as are the games. Taco Mac leads the way, with their extensive beer list, better than average bar food, plus tacos (naturally), and other Southwestern fare.

But the name belies the origin of this chain which originally began as a pub in the Virginia Highlands. A couple of guys from Buffalo, NY wanted to bring authentic Buffalo wings to Atlanta. Lacking funds, they chose a run-down taco stand, kept it’s original name, and soon customers were coming from all over town to try their famous wings.

Last Sunday me and ST met a couple of his buddies at the Taco Mac at The Prado for the Saints and Vikings playoff game. MT, the ladies man, and RC, the happily married nice guy.

After a treacherous drive in a torrential downpour, we were ready for a beer or three. Me and ST started off with Guinness. I always like to try something less pedestrian when there is an impressive selection like Taco Mac’s, so I ordered a Brooklyn Chocolate Stout. Served in a special glass, it was thick and rich with notes of coffee and chocolate.

And I was also ready for some food. Men love wings. Not sure why but they all do. Taco Mac serves seven flavors, from the mild Lemon Pepper to one simply called Death. MT, clearly a pussy, got some Lemon Pepper with his steak and onion rings, while the rest of us shared twenty pieces of the Three Mile Island, the fifth level of heat intensity. And hot they were! Cooled down with celery sticks dipped in chunky blue cheese dressing, these wings flew out of their basket, along with the thick and crispy onion rings.

It would simply be wrong to not get a couple of tacos at Taco Mac, right? I couldn’t resist the Los Cabos Fish Tacos since me and ST will be going there in July. Blackened tilapia with shredded lettuce, pico de gallo, and chipotle mayo were wrapped in soft flour tortillas. They were fishy. But the fries served with them were decent.

We washed it all down with multiple Miller Lites, Sierra Nevadas, and Heinekens as New Orleans continually matched Minnesota’s score, making for an exciting game. We left during the fourth quarter and I was sure we’d miss the end but when we got home, the score was 28 all in overtime. A 40 yard field goal decided the game, sending the Saints to the Superbowl.

There is something for everyone at Taco Mac including salads, burgers, burritos, wraps, and a kid’s menu. But you gotta get some wings! Next time, I’ll try Death.

I know, Oktoberfest is almost over now, but Helen, Georgia’s very own faux Bavarian village, is still worth a visit through November. Fall folliage in the north Georgia mountains is beautiful on a crisp Fall day and almost makes one forget that Summer is over and the dreaded Winter is coming.

Helen is fun any time of year. The only difference, in fact, is the Festhalle that is open during Oktoberfest which officially starts mid-September and runs through the end of October. The Festhalle is just that, a “party hall” with communal picnic tables, wurst and kraut, pitchers of beer, and lots of drunk folks, some wearing lederhosen, and some rowdy ones wearing Bulldawgs T-shirts. Yes, Helen is what you get when you cross a redneck with a German, then add beer. Charming.

I’ve visited several times recently as my family is there on weekends and it’s a quick and pleasant drive from Atlanta. ST met me there and we had lunch with my Mom at Hofer’s. I apologize for the semi-devoured state of the brats, sauerkraut, pretzel knodel, and goulash in the photo, forgot to get the camera out before the forks were flying. A couple of Warsteiners washed it all down.

Hofer’s is one of the oldest German bakeries in the south, opened by Horst and Gerda Hofer in the late ’50’s. Now owned by son Ralph, the bakery makes the most authentic German kuchen, pastries, and cakes, although never as good as my own Omi’s! I think the trick is in the ingredients so the real thing just can’t be duplicated here in the states.

As luck would have it, they had plum cake, or Zwetschen kuchen, last weekend. My recent experiment with puff pastry (see post Project Puff Pastry) was a take on this German cake, traditionally made on yeast dough. Their version’s dough was too thick, but the flavor was good, with sugar sprinkled on top and real whipped cream.

ST and I proceeded to The Troll Tavern. No photos here, but it is a picturesque locale down by the river. The best time to visit is during the summer when you can watch the current carry hundreds of chubby kids and their folks in colorful tubes down the river. The food used to be better. The beer, however, is always good.

Next stop was the Festhalle. Admission is free on Sundays, so we grabbed a pitcher and took a seat outdoors. It was a beautiful day, I was with a gorgeous man, and the oompah band was playing silly German tunes. Prost!

Walking back through the town on Main Street we ended up at The Black Dog for a final beer and watched the start of the Falcons game. In the mood for a stout, the darkest beer they offered was a doppelbock called Celebrator. It had a sweet aftertaste that I didn’t care for….should’ve stuck with the pilsners.

Our Oktoberfest experience was awesome! As much as I love brats, kraut, spaetzle, schweinebraten, and such, I visit Helen so often that my palette craves something else….anything else. There are numerous options, most of them bar food, one Mexican restaurant, a pizza joint, Paul’s steakhouse on the river. But there is one restaurant that is above the rest in a culinary sense and that is Nacoochee Grill. It deserves its own post so check it out tomorrow!