Hot Dish Review

Last weekend was my first visit of the year to North Georgia’s faux Bavarian village of Helen. LC joined me to visit my folks and enjoy the beautiful Spring weather.

Much has changed since October 2012. Longtime upscale favorite Nacoochee Grill has closed and is being renovated to reopen soon. Doors and windows were boarded up at Old Heidelberg, home to my favorite tiny balcony overlooking the square. Word is the owner is wanted to attempted murder.

LC and I enjoyed our meal at Hogpen Gap Grill when it was brand new last Fall, although it was too chilly to sit outside. Now the training wheels are off, its spacious patio nearly full of patrons in the Springtime sun. With my Mom along for lunch, we chose a table ouside where I started off with an unfamiliar German beer called Weihenstephan, from the oldest brewery in Germany founded in 1040.

Hogpen Gap Grill specializes in organic beef burgers with a variety of fancy toppings. However, I was secretly planning to stop by Yonah Burger on our way home, a trick I’ve yet to accomplish in the many years I’ve traveled that route. So, I chose the bratwurst platter instead, which comes with the ubiquitous sauerkraut and potato salad on the side. LC surprised me with his order of fish ‘n’ chips, while my Mom didn’t surprise me at all, ordering the salad with grilled chicken.

Mom enjoyed her salad while LC inhaled his fish and fries. My bratwurst was appropriately browned in a skillet, consuming my attention to the extent that I didn’t even steal a fry from LC’s plate. The only disappointment is that the original menu offered a choice of sides including spaetzle and red cabbage, both of which I love when done properly. Now neither is available, just the standard sauerkraut and chunky potato salad that is not exactly German, but not entirely American either.

Service here is friendly and the food has been quite good on both visits, although my experience so far is limited to their German fare. I’m certain we’ll be seeing more of this patio in the months to come!

8735 N. Main Street 706-878-1822

When I had the opportunity to meet a friend for a drink recently, he suggested Sidebar. I had to laugh out loud, remembering a ridiculous night out at this downtown dive with colleagues just before I was to drive to Tennessee for Christmas some years ago. My manager at the time said we each had to try an Irish car bomb. Never one to turn down alcohol, I managed to guzzle the half pint of Guinness with the shot of Bailey’s and Jamison’s dropped in. Delicious! That was the first of many Irish car bombs that night which led to my car keys being locked in my office, delaying my holiday plans.

This visit was totally different, except for the blustery Winter weather. Sidebar is a long narrow space with hightops on the left, the bar on the right. There are pool tables downstairs, which I never knew existed until last week. College students and area workers stop by after hours for a brew or two, along with a couple of regulars that obviously don’t stop at two. In fact, one of them provided much entertainment, fruitlessly attempting to withdraw cash from the ATM with his driver’s license after his girlfriend abandoned him. (I didn’t notice at first, but that’s him in the corner of the photo above…LOL).

Naturally, the first order of business was to have an Irish car bomb. It went down smoothly, taking away the Winter chill. I followed it with a Guinness draught as me and BL caught up.

I was hungry too, so I checked out Sidebar’s menu, a selection of typical bar snacks and alcohol absorbers. Among the choices was my favorite sandwich, the classic BLT.

The sandwich arrived stacked high with crispy bacon. Honestly, I prefer it thick and chewy, but it’s nearly impossible to complain about bacon, unless you don’t have any! Ripe tomatoes, fresh lettuce, and a heavy schmear of mayo on grilled white bread completed the tasty sandwich. Accompanying shoestring fries were crispy and plentiful. Another Guinness washed it all down.

Thankfully, I left Sidebar relatively sober….with my car keys and dignity intact.

79 Poplar Street NW 404-588-1850

Having visited the second location of this local Irish pub just a week after it opened in Brookhaven, I was interested to see the original in Alpharetta. Olde Blind Dog in Brookhaven boasts countless vintage reproductions and original Irish and English fixtures including ornate lamp posts along the faux sidewalk. It’s over-the-top kitschiness is both ridiculous and fun, but the decor of the Alpharetta location, which is significantly larger, is less cluttered. There is, however, a mannequin of William Wallace a.k.a. Braveheart (pictured), somewhat reminiscent of a Ripley’s Believe it or Not display.

LC and I arrived for the other LC’s birthday party, ready for a couple of Irish car bombs! We chugged those at the bar, then found our way to her party section. A few appetizers were ordered for the table including Kerrygold cheddar dip with pretzel bread and fried calamari, neither of which was memorable. Another Guinness appeared. And another car bomb.

I decided against traditional Irish pub fare in favor of a big fat cheeseburger, complete with cheddar, bacon, caramelized onions, and fresh jalapenos. LC ordered an ale-braised short rib sandwich, an enormous open-faced thing made with grilled jalapeno cornbread, short rib meat, coleslaw, and a colossal mound of fried onion strings. Both sandwiches were served with fries. Another Guinness appeared. And another car bomb. Are you keeping count? I wasn’t.

Weighing in at half a pound, my medium cooked burger was juicy, sloppy, and awesome. LC’s monster sandwich was tasty but enough to feed an entire elementary class. Nonetheless, we both polished off our plates without barfing. Then I took an impromptu nap.

12650 Crabapple Road 678-624-1090

It’s that time of year again….Oktoberfest in Helen! Bratwurst, beer, bikers, and bad taste all coming together in one tiny faux Bavarian town in north Georgia. The restaurant most frequented by bikers (or perhaps I should say motorcycle enthusiasts) in Helen has a new owner and a long overdue new look. LC and I visited last weekend and gave it a try.

Formerly Hans House, Hogpen Gap Grill has retained its enormous patio, great for the gorgeous Fall weather. The revamped menu relies heavily on burgers, including Asian, Greek, and Tex Mex versions made with all natural beef, which makes the $9-$13 pricetag easier to digest compared to similarly priced burgers at nearby establishments that are likely full of hormones and fillers. A variety of salads, an extensive kid’s menu, and a few German specialties are offered as well.

There was a chill in the air so LC and I decided to sit inside where the decor was log cabin chic. I ordered a Spaten Oktoberfest and LC tried the Highland Oatmeal Porter that I enjoyed a couple of weeks ago at The Family Dog.

Despite numerous visits to Helen, I feel compelled to eat wurst and drink beer whenever I’m there. Like I have to eat tacos and drink margaritas in Mexico, I just have to, ya know? So I ordered their bratwurst, made locally especially for Hogpen. It was a long, skinny sausage, browned and finished with a drizzle of sweet mustard. Its texture wasn’t as dense as most brats, perhaps because there was less fat to hold it all together…a good thing. All three standard sides, sauerkraut, German potato salad, and candied red cabbage, were served with the bratwurst, complimenting its meaty flavor.

The cool weather made LC crave a bowl of hot soup. He wanted to order the potato soup but I thought it would be cream-based and fatty so I steered him towards the goulash, traditionally made with beef and vegetables in a tomato-based broth. Both of us wanted to try the corn souffle’ as a side.

Unfortunately, the goulash didn’t contain much beef so LC wasn’t thrilled with it. The corn souffle’, however, was fluffy and delicious, but the portion was disappointingly small. We ordered two more beers, bargain priced by Helen standards at $4 each.

After our lunch we took a short walk to the Festhalle where umpah bands play silly German polka music and college students get shitfaced on German beer served in tall plastic boots. We didn’t stay long.

This weekend, October 27th and 28th, is the last of Oktoberfest 2012, so pull on your lederhosen, get on your Ducati, and head to Helen for some beer, bratwurst, and maybe a little corn souffle’.

8735 Main Street, Helen 706-878-1822

Anchored by a forty foot long bar with bottles of whiskey lining its rough brick walls, The Family Dog in the Virginia Highlands is Rosebud’s naughty teenage brother.

LC and I ended up there by accident, although he secretly was drawn to it by the promise of live music. Located across the street from the reserved yet neighborly Rosebud, both owned by chef Ron Eyester and Jason Chenette, one can expect a grownup pub menu at The Family Dog. And as the name implies, guests are welcome to bring their pooches when dining on the sidewalk patio.

A well-edited list of draft and bottled beers range from blue collar selections like a 16 oz. can of PBR to local small batch craft beers like the Jailhouse Brewing Misdemeanor Red Ale from Hampton, Georgia. I started with a drink of unquestionable pedigree, a Guinness draft.

Neither of us had eaten lunch and it was nearly 5pm, so when LC ordered the crispy Brussels sprouts before I had a chance to review the menu, I was quite pleased. Roasted, then finished with a soy-citrus scallion vinaigrette, those suckers were enormous….and tasty. However, not as good as the phenomenal sprouts served at Hearth.

We decided to share, as we almost always do, a couple of appetizers: crispy rock shrimp tacos with sesame slaw, cilantro, and sambal mayo and smoked duck quesadilla with pickled vegetables and goat cheese. I moved on to one of four heavyweights offered on draft, the Highland Oatmeal Porter.

Our tacos arrived, two flour tortillas piled high with fried shrimp encased in unfortunately thick batter, disguising the flavor of the delicate seafood. The crispy slaw beneath them added textural interest but the best part was the whole sprig of cilantro and the sambal sauce, not mayo at all, but a sweet, sticky, spicy brown sauce reminiscent of hoisin that complemented the Asian elements of the tacos.

On occassion, a dish does not match what I envision. This was the case with the quesadilla. I was thinking lots of tangy goat cheese mingling with chunks of stringy, gamey duck. I wasn’t sure where the pickled vegetables fit in and this was, perhaps, the disconnect. The disproportionate amount of meat to cheese was unusual. In fact, it was hard to find any cheese. The quesadilla, cut into three wedges rested on a bed of pickled veggies, which was fine. But the addition of pickled carrots and cabbage inside just didn’t work. A better pairing with duck might be roasted figs or candied pear slices, right?

Befitting the restaurant’s name, both dishes were mutts, combining Asian flavors with traditional Mexican dishes. Honestly, it’s a trend that’s becoming irritating.

My final drink selection was a beer from Southern Tier Brewing called Creme Brulee Imperial Stout. With heavy notes of toffee and chocolate, it was perfect for dessert.

I love their tagline: Sit. Drink. Stay. LC and I will certainly return, perhaps for brunch or a late-night meal and some live music. Probably both.

1402 N. Highland Avenue 404-249-0180

In Helen, Georgia’s mini Bavaria, Oktoberfest begins mid-September. LC and I made plans to visit my folks on the first official day, unaware of the parade on Main Street. The weather was gorgeous but the crowd of visitors was anything but, sporting fitted denim shorts and mullets (dudes and chicks!).

We arrived right after the parade, effectively missing the traffic and just in time for lunch with my Mom. Hoping to snag one of only four balcony tables at Olde Heidelberg, we quickly made our way across the street and into their smoky bar downstairs. One picnic style table remained, overlooking the square where beer drinkers gathered to listen to a guy sing and play a keyboard that was the rest of his “band”.

LC likes to order appetizers, even at lunch, so we started off with the sauerkraut roll-ups topped with crispy bacon that we enjoyed a couple of years ago. Tangy, salty, and a good pairing with my Warsteiner Oktoberfest draft.

Mom ordered a salad with grilled chicken breast which looked pretty good, especially for a restaurant that specializes in spaetzle. LC and I split the wurst platter, a combination of knackwurst, bratwurst, and smoked pork chop with sauerkraut and coarsely mashed potatoes with brown gravy, plus an additional side of red cabbage. Can’t have too much cabbage….or can you?

We didn’t make it to the Festhalle this trip, but plan to visit again soon and have more beer….and less cabbage.

8660 N. Main Street, Helen 706-878-3273

Cookouts and Summer go hand in hand. Guys love to demonstrate their prowess at the backyard grill while their mates are more than happy to let them. And grilling usually means one thing…meat.

This 4th of July found me poolside at Concourse Athletic Club. The club’s restaurant, The Courtside Grill, moved much of its operation downstairs, serving up hamburgers, hot dogs, grilled chicken sandwiches with Ruffles….nothing fancy. After an intense yoga class, I was excited to soak up some rays and Corona Lights.

And I was looking forward to a juicy cheeseburger despite having already consumed numerous burgers this Summer. I removed half the bun and coated the other half with mayo, adding lettuce and tomatoes. The meat was unfortunately overcooked, but it’s always refreshing to dine outdoors, especially by the pool in my bikini.

The rest of my holiday was full of fireworks!

German food is not the most popular world cuisine. Personally, I love it….but I was born in Frankfurt. For those of us in Atlanta, it’s a quick drive to the faux Bavarian village of Helen in north Georgia for an occassional schnitzel fix. During Oktoberfest, we often visit to celebrate with men in lederhosen (and men with mullets in tight acid-washed denim shorts), drink mugs of German beer, and eat the inevitable bratwurst.

But there is an alternative smack in the middle of Marietta Street in downtown Atlanta called Der Biergarten. Their patio upstairs is reminiscent of Helen’s Festhalle, with picnic table seating and festive lights strung about. Inside, the walls are painted with murals depicting idyllic scenes of castles and forests…..very Brothers Grimm.

I met LC there recently, at the tail-end of a friend’s birthday party. It was late and I was starving. With plans to drive to Helen in a few days, I wasn’t too keen on having German food, but curiosity and hunger prevailed. Guests seated at the bar dined on generous plates of schweinebraten with spaetzle. Tempting, but I chose my standard bratwurst and knockwurst with sauerkraut and potato salad….no schnitzel.

But first, the bartender poured me a pint of Warsteiner draught. Wursts were delivered quickly along with a trio of mustards for dipping….smooth and creamy, somewhat grainy, and slightly sweet with whole mustard seeds. LC noted that none of them were spicy, to which I replied that Germans don’t do spicy. The sauerkraut had a nice vinegary twang. American potato salad was nothing special. Weiners are always wonderful.

A few days later at Old Heidelberg in Helen, LC and I ordered the wurst trio to share, along with some additional sides. Seated on the tiny balcony, we took in the sun and pollen while drinking more Warsteiner and checking out the bikers and their buxom babes eating funnel cakes.

In addition to a knockwurst and bratwurst was a long skinny bauernwurst, flavored with garlic and herbs. Of our sides, the anemic, crunchy kraut was a total contrast to the golden variety at Der Biergarten. Their red cabbage, which often suffers from too much sugar, nutmeg, and cloves, had no such issues on this visit. Spaetzle was greasy and toothsome, drizzled with a little gravy. Green beans provided the only color on our otherwise beige and brown plate.

Satisfied with our sodium and fat intake, we strolled through town, beyond the gift shops and cheesy bars, straight to my parents’ sofa for a brief snooze before heading back to the city.

300 Marietta Street NW 404-521-2728

Please enjoy my Mexican reruns as LC and I bask in the sun on the beach!
Arriving at Capella Pedregal around 1pm last Thursday, B and I quickly made our way to the swim-up bar in front of one of the resort’s restaurants, Don Manuel’s.

I say quickly, but first we had to assess our 3 bedroom, 3 1/2 bath villa, stocked with groceries I had ordered the day before. Our mayordomo was to make guacamole for us, but alas we did not get a personal assistant. Most impressively, however, the ingredients were placed in our refrigerator…..the exact ingredients I use for my kickass guacamole! Of course, I got the recipe from a Mexican cleaning lady twenty years ago. More on this later…..

The first order of business was a Corona Light with lime. Then we slipped on our bikinis and dipped our toes in one of our 2 balcony infinity pools (yeah, I’m serious).

Finally down at one of the infinity pools, we chose 2 deck chairs near the bar, overlooking the white surf and the turquoise waters of the Pacific. Handsome Latino servers happily decked out our comfy padded loungers with fresh white towels as we gazed momentarily at the blue blue sky.

Now it was time for tequila! And a snack, too. B and I ordered two shots of Herradura with salt and limes plus two margaritas. Chips, salsa, and guacamole started us off. The chips were very thick. I was hoping this was not typical to Cabo San Lucas but as the days wore on, it became evident that it was the standard. As were white corn tortillas that were wrapped around our shrimp tacos rather than the coarse, intensely corn-flavored yellow ones.

The shrimp were plump and fresh, as I would expect sitting ten feet from the ocean, and their guacamole was authentic and chunky. Pico de gallo and a habenero salsa provided some kick.

As did our unexpected second shot of tequila. That kick put me to sleep on the chaise lounge to the sound of the crashing waves and the Latin acoustic guitarist that played poolside as the sun set.

A good start.

An Oktoberfest favorite!
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!