Hot Dish Review

Cafe’ International is quite likely Helen’s most popular restaurant. Its patio by the river is unmatched, but the food has never impressed. The menu of sandwiches served with potato salad and chips reminds me of a picnic, not an international cafe. Spaghetti and lasagna add some Italian flair for the totally unadventurous.

Arriving in the midst of the lunch rush on a gorgeous Saturday, me and my Mom were pleasantly surprised to be seated almost immediately at a choice table, covered with a hideously printed and slightly sticky plastic tablecloth, along the rail overlooking the Chattahoochee. An endless stream of bright pink intertubes floated lazily along, carrying their screaming teenage passengers past the BBQ place, fudge shop, and tattoo parlor.

When in Helen I do like the Bavarians and eat some wurst. Mom and I split a platter containing a knockwurst, a bratwurst, and a smoked pork chop, served with sauerkraut and German potato salad. The meal also came with a side salad that she was craving, a shallow bowl of flacid iceberg with a few bits of cucumber and tomato. Sticking with the international theme, she got the Greek dressing.

Service was friendly and prompt. A warm loaf of dark bread was delivered along with the wurst platter. It’s the exact same bread they serve at The Highland Tap…soft rather than crusty. The brat’s casing had been removed giving it an odd texture, while the knockwurst remained tightly encased, making a popping sound when cut. Both had nice flavor. Overcooked and tough as shoe leather, the smoked pork chop was mediocre at best. Nothing like the ribbchen of my childhood, the pink chops heated with the sauerkraut, making the salty meat super tender. Sauerkraut was standard but the potato salad, which looked like it came out of a can, lacked the vinegary pucker and bits of bacon typical of the German style.

Considering the exorbitant prices of neighboring restaurants, our lunch was a good deal. Altogether, we were quite pleased with our visit to Cafe’ International.

8546 S. Main Street, Helen, GA 706-878-3102

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

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

Grab your Lederhosen….it’s that time of year again!

Last weekend’s amazing weather provided the perfect backdrop for a visit to Helen, the faux Bavarian village near Dahlonega that gives locals a taste of Germany, in a redneck sort of way.

Their Oktoberfest celebration is actually rather fun. Me, LC and his awesome parents hit the road to check out the Festhalle, dance the polka, and drink a lot of beer!

Since my parents are part-time residents of Helen, it is a frequent destination for me. However, this was their first visit to the quaint and somewhat cheesy North Georgia town. We started off with lunch at Old Heidelberg. My Mom joined us.

We chose a table on the tiny balcony, me and Mom’s new favorite spot. Ice cold beers, Warsteiner draft for me, cooled us off in the blazing Oktober sun. An appetizer described as sauerkraut and bacon rolled in dough sounded both weird and delicious. And it was.

Mom ordered her usual goulash soup while the rest of us split various kinds of wurst. LC and I tried the trio which included bauernwurst, bratwurst, and knockwurst. Served with sauerkraut and whipped potatoes with gravy it was a hearty portion, certainly enough for two.

Old Heidelberg serves some of the best German fare in Helen. A note of trivia: the restaurant is the most photographed building in Georgia. Another beer to wash it down and we were ready to walk around town and see the sights on our way to the Festhalle.

LC’s parents are really cool and laid back. His Dad, KC, shares my birthday so that gives him an automatic advantage where I’m concerned. And his Mom, FC, must be a saint to put up with them both.

At the Festhalle we ordered a pitcher of beer and the parents picked up three bags of candied beer nuts somewhere when we weren’t looking. Soon they were up on the dancefloor doing the polka!

On the drive back to Atlanta we stopped at one of the many farmer’s stands, this one specializing in all kinds of sauces, jams, and condiments….they had a whole room of them. We got some hot boiled peanuts to snack on.

There are only two weeks left of Oktoberfest. This weekend will most likely be the busiest, as the leaves finally begin to change to Fall hues. The weather promises to be stunning once again so hop in the car and head North to enjoy beer and brats in Helen!

A Memorial Day weekend repost, in honor of my first return visit to the boat!
Day three of LC’s birthday/Labor Day weekend bash found us at Sunset Cove at Lake Lanier. Our group was supposed to dock there the night before but there were no spots big enough for the Cooper boat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t wait to get to the ballpark!
Although I adore greasy cheeseburgers and institution-grade pizza, I just can’t bring myself to go to a baseball game without eating a hot dog, its casing filled with mysterious meat, frightening yet somehow delicious.

Last night, before the Braves got completely clobbered by the Phillies, LC and I stood in an excrutiatingly long line to get our weiner fix. Luckily we had stopped by the 755 Club for beers to keep us occupied.

Rather than the standard foot long I opted for a bratwurst with sauteed onions. LC got the foot long with cheese and sauteed onions. It was a sloppy mess. My brat was pretty good with the addition of bright yellow mustard. An order of fries complimented our trashy dinner (check out the gaudy packaging!) that we scarfed down at a table near the concessions, watching the game on one of the thousands of TV’s mounted on every surface. Another Miller Lite, and another, washed it all down.

The fries at Turner Field are disappointing. I wish they were shoestring but they are cut a bit too thick. Even more disconcerting, however, is the ketchup. I don’t know how it’s possible to fuck up ketchup, but somehow they have managed to purchase the worst tasting product. Surely delivered in vats, the stuff has a weird sweetness, kinda disgusting.

As the season draws to a riveting close, I’ll be back at the ballpark this afternoon. Today I will most likely get the old reliable foot long simply dressed with raw onions and mustard. And maybe some hot boiled peanuts if I’m in the mood for a sodium-induced coma.

It’s do or die for our Braves. Will there be cause to cheer or will there be a tear in my beer?

So, there we were…..me and my Mom in Germany without my Oma to cook for us. At least we were staying at her house, which is awesome. It always smells so good, hard to explain….just smells like my childhood.

Left to our own devices, her brother-in-law Friedhelm took us to the grocery store to stock up for the week. We bought some fruit, cheese, bread, yogurt, chocolate, and bratwurst.

There were a couple of cans of rotkohl (red cabbage) in the cellar. We both like our brats well-browned, so Mom put them in a skillet, turning them several times, for about 15 minutes.

We ate the juicy brats with the red cabbage and leftover pasta salad my aunt Angela had brought the day we arrived. Hard to beat the real thing….delicious!

While I was in Germany, I thought I would rerun a few posts on Helen, North Georgia’s faux Bavarian village! Prost!
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.

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!

There is nothing German about funnel cake. However in Helen, the faux Bavarian village in the North Georgia mountains, the land of motorcycles and mullets, liverwurst and lederhosen, it is strangely appropriate.

Sprinkled with powdered sugar, topped with some gloppy fruit goo, whipped cream, ice cream, or all of the above, it is practically mandatory to eat one of these fried monstrosities in the carnivalesque atmosphere of Helen.

After years of avoiding this white trash temptation, I finally vowed to give in the next time I went tubing. And that was last weekend. B and I joined my Mom for lunch at Old Heidelberg, feasting on the best wurst with good kraut and over-spiced, over-cooked red cabbage, drank several Corona Lights, then braved the chilly waters of the Chattahoochee in the bright pink tubes.

We bailed early, getting out of the river across the street from my parents’ house, just in time for bison burgers! Chef Billy burns my Dad’s just the way he likes it but B and I prefer our burgers medium. They were perfect and juicy topped with double cheese and all the fixin’s.

Finally….time for funnel cake! Granny’s Famous Funnel Cakes is a Helen tradition, having stood in the center of town for many years. You can watch as the dough is literally piped into the vat of bubbling oil with a funnel. It is truly awe-inspiring (see photo).

B and I wanted to keep it simple, ordering our large funnel cake with powdered sugar and whipped cream. She got Georgia peach ice cream on the side.

Like a super-crispy doughnut, what’s not to love about this treat? A chick from Ooltewah and one from Ellijay, we know good white trash when we eat it.