Hot Dish Review

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.

Zebulon and Jeremiah….almost sounds biblical, right? Well, they’re not exactly choir boys at the Baptist church, these dudes cook up one of the meanest menus in town at Livingston.

Following Gary Mennie’s recent departure, his sous chef Zeb Stevenson was promoted to Executive Chef. B and I are big fans of Zeb so we were excited to hear the news! With Fall upon us, we were invited to a media dinner where he debuted his new menu featuring the seasons best vegetables and fruits like Brussels sprouts and apples from Ellijay. Jeremiah, by the way, is the new sous.

Is it fair to do a review based upon one dinner, and a complimentary one at that? Sure, what the hell. Zeb served the table of a dozen or so food writers a selection of appetizers and salads, family style, so we all had the opportunity to sample a bit of everything.

Well-known foodie, writer, and television personality Carolyn O’Neil was among the guests and quipped about the blurry black and white photomural behind the adjacent booth. (Yes, it was intentionally blurry!) Later, one of the diners at my table remarked that Kwanza Hall was seated there. Me? Namedropping? Never.

The space is very dramatic in a rich, luxurious way, fitting for the renovated Georgian Terrace Hotel where it is located.

Our server, Wyatt, started us off with a little bubbly, then brought out an amuse bouche of tuna crudo topped with pistachio and candied mustard paired with a sliver of yellow beet with a champagne-vanilla vinaigrette…..an interesting nibble. The bread service was excellent, with an assortment of breads including the crispy sourdough roll I devoured, slavered in softened sweet cream butter.

An array of appetizers began to arrive….salads, crab cakes, bratwurst. Zeb came by to talk about the dishes. He pointed out that the crab cakes were more crab than cake. They were served on waffle potato chips and gone in a flash! I tried a taste of the sauvignon blanc that was pouring as well as a full glass of the red….can’t remember what varietal but I do know it was a 2008. CO’s friend M had inquired.

A simple spinach salad was dressed up with a smoky and sweet cippolini and candied bacon vinaigrette and topped with chunks of gorgonzola. Don’t let anyone tell you bacon is out of fashion, honey. Even better, however, was the smoked trout and apple salad. Like the Waldorf salad’s stylish cousin, this dish was a favorite of the table. I scraped the last bit out of the bowl to eat along with a slice of chicken bratwurst. Zeb makes the bratwurst in-house and serves it on a bed of shredded Brussels sprouts. Very German flavors, I was lovin’ it.

Then came my bodacious lobster. I probably should have prefaced that with the statement that our table was given the full menu of entrees, eleven in all, from which to choose. (Then back to family style for dessert.)

Back to the butter poached lobster. Once again Zeb was there to explain the intricacies of poaching a lobster in butter and water….a precise science and well worth the effort. It was supposed to be served with chive gnocchi and garlic broth. When Wyatt detected my lukewarm attitude towards the potato dumplings, he suggested a substitution (gasp!) of the truffle mac ‘n’ cheese. Yessir!

I was hoping the mac would be baked, served in its own little ramekin but it was beneath the lobster instead. Can’t complain about creamy, truffley goodness and buttery tender lobster.

After much debate B decided upon the grilled skirt steak with hand cut fries and smoked hollandaise. She commented that the tender steak really flipped her skirt and we all laughed. Zeb’s hollandaise was made with cold-smoked butter. Mad scientist! Rather than being heavy and rich, the sauce was lightly whipped. I found myself dipping bites of lobster in it, as well as stealing her skin-on fries.

Across from me KL had the juicy filet mignon with creamed spinach, and M had the lamb chop. I tasted his spaetzle, forgetting that it was flavored with mint. Although herbaciously green, I didn’t detect mint specifically. Creative side. Four or five of us ordered the lobster. I would have had a hard time choosing between the two smoked meats, duck and pork, had I not been enthralled by the lobster.

Each week Livingston hosts Millionaire Mondays, offering a three course dinner with a choice of lobster or filet mignon for only $16. And there is a nightly theatre menu with four entree selections, that includes a glass of wine, for just $29.

A platter of flourless chocolate tart, a chocolate mousse, and espresso ice cream was presented, complimented by another glass of red wine. Beignets with coconut dipping sauce were crispy and irresistible.

We bid our acquaintances farewell and made our way to the bar, having a chat and a smoke with the two chefs, across from the fabulous Fox Theatre, it’s grandeur and history intertwined in Atlanta’s story. And I thought how grand it was all of us making new history here. Makin’ it happen.

659 Peachtree Street NE 404-897-5000

Here’s a post from almost a year ago….
Headed there now for some beer and brats!

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!