Hot Dish Review

In anticipation of my lunch with BG at Stir It Up in Little Five Points, I bought a 6-pack of Red Stripe….Light. With no liquor license, the restaurant allows diners to BYOB, so I packed a cooler.

It was bittersweet to find Stir It Up located in the old space that used to house D & D, a Volkswagon service and restoration garage. I remember stopping by there in the Winter with SS, huddled by a heater in the shabbily furnished waiting area. Those were the days of Karmann Ghias and velvet Jesus paintings. It was strange to see the space decorated with vibrant Jamaican colors, the smell of jerk spices in the air a pleasant change from the noxious engine fumes.

Our plan to dine at Stir It Up was already made when I discovered the restaurant was recently listed as one of Cliff Bostock’s Top 10 of 2012 in Creative Loafing. He loves their inexpensive yet authentic menu. We chose it because BG is a vegetarian and Stir It Up offers a plentiful selection of meatless dishes…and it’s cheap.

We chose a table in the sunny front room and requested a bottle opener. BG ordered the tofu chop suey which we were warned would take an extra fifteen minutes, odd since it was simply vegetables and tofu. I was torn between the jerk and curry, hoping to choose the spiciest dish available. Our server recommended the chicken curry for me, which I ordered with rice and peas.

Our lunches arrived as we popped open our second round of beers. BG’s tofu, cut into triangles, was in a tasty brown sauce, probably the same one used in the brown stew dishes with meat. An oily yellow curry enveloped my bone-in chunks of chicken, the meat falling off the bones at the touch of my fork. I wouldn’t describe the dish as spicy, but it was certainly delicious. BG was perplexed at the rice with peas, as the peas were actually red beans. Neither the rice nor the chop suey that accompanied my curry was inspiring, but for $8, there were no complaints.

My only disappointment with the food was the thin sliver of plantain. When I visited Jamaica, I loved the thick-sliced sweet plantains served with ackee and salt fish at breakfast.

And then we got the check. It included a $10 corkage fee for our beer. Ouch! No one mentioned the fee when I called or when I came in with my cooler….so much for cheap.

1083 Euclid Avenue NE 404-963-2384

Both LC and I have driven past this place on Briarcliff dozens of times, always curious exactly what Hawaiian BBQ is. It conjures up images of whole roasted pigs, big meaty smoked ribs, grilled pineapple. Well, get those tasty images out of your head or you’ll be disappointed with this place. There are no meats prepared in a smoker, in fact, nothing is actually barbecued.

The decor is cheap and cheery, decorated with stereotypical plastic palm trees. Guests order at the counter from a huge selection of mostly Asian inspired fast food mainstays like steamed dumplings, spring rolls, onion rings, and chicken wings to start.

LC and I both ordered the $6.99 lunch special, a Chinese food court wannabe, each with two choices of meat, one scoop of steamed rice, and a scoop of macaroni salad that all plates come with. LC chose the BBQ pork and spicy chicken while I went with BBQ beef rib and spicy pork. I also was excited to try their fried plantains, which I thought would be a great accompaniment with my pork. However, the plantains came out right away, still sizzling from the deep fryer.

The plates at Waikikie consist of bite-size pieces of sauteed or deep fried pork, chicken, or beef tossed in whichever sauce you choose, like teriyaki or katsu. A runner delivered our food on paper plates. It was difficult to tell which was which. My beef rib wasn’t a whole rib, but rather thin slices. Inexplicably, a flavorless layer of cabbage was beneath the meat.

Once cooled off, the plantains proved to be some of the best I’ve ever eaten. Chewy, crisp edges gave way to the slightly sweet fruit. They would have been a great compliment to BBQ pork, but unfortunately, they don’t serve that at Waikikie.

The back of the menu describes the food at Waikikie as Hawaiian “local food”, making me question my desire to travel halfway across the globe to our 50th state. If this is what they will serve me there, I think I’ll go to Thailand instead.

2160 Briarcliff Road NE 404-638-1115

Anticipation. Sure, it’s supposed to make whatever you’re waiting for even better when you finally get it, or fuel your inevitable disappointment, as the case may be. I didn’t intend to wait this long to dine at Cardamom Hill, Chef Asha Gomez’ brick and mortar restaurant modeled after her exclusive Spice Route Supper Club, especially considering the hype surrounding her Kerala Indian cuisine, including a national write-up in a recent issue of Food and Wine Magazine.

LC and I arrived two days late for our Valentine’s Day dinner seeing as he was deathly ill on the day itself. The door of the small space in a strip shopping center opens by the restaurant’s bar while the main dining room is divided by a central partition. Decor is rather plain but I was there for the food, super-excited to taste what everyone was talking about. We started off with drinks, a specialty cocktail for him, a glass of red wine for me.

Although it is the dish I have been waiting to try since I first read Cardamom Hill’s menu, I was talked out of ordering the duck and plantain croquettes by LC for practical reasons. He was right. I was ordering the duck entree and he wasn’t very hungry, so we would order three other appetizers instead and share the duck.

Among the three small plates we ordered was my old favorite, pork vindaloo. Easily the spiciest of the Indian sauces, one usually finds it dumbed down for us Americans. However, Gomez gives us an authentic fiery version and serves it with a rice-coconut crepe. Although the menu says the meat is a shoulder cut, I could have sworn it was pork belly. Cubes of fat mingled with the tender meat, surprising me with their unappetizing texture. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the deep, spicy flavor.

LC chose the curry chicken pastries, two turnovers filled with fragrant minced curried chicken then baked crisp. Spiced with cumin, corriander, and curry powder, they were satisfying but not particularly noteworthy. We agreed on a third dish, the short rib with sweet potato, mainly because I love sweet potatoes.

Modernizing the idea of the traditional thali, Gomez composes some dishes on small square white plates set on long wooden boards, each displaying a separate ingredient. This is how the short rib was presented, spiced pulled rib meat in one dish, two (yes, only two) slices of cardamom scented sweet potato in the center, and arugula with a punchy citrus vinaigrette in the third dish, providing a wonderful acid contrast to the sweet and spicy flavors.

I was horrified when my crispy duck leg arrived, completely covered in the clove pepper sauce mentioned on the menu. Even worse was that the sauce was room temperature. I wonder if the skin of the duck was crispy before it was drowned in the sauce…it almost made me cry. Another issue was my request to substitute the confit potatoes with sweet potatoes, to which I was told they couldn’t do it. I can’t imagine why not since the potatoes were plated separately and could have easily been switched. A fruit chutney heavy on ginger paired well with the duck which was actually delicious after I got past the sauce.

Despite feeling a little better than on Valentine’s Day, LC didn’t have enough energy for dessert, so I ordered the mango bread pudding to go. It was beautifully presented in a black container and devoured immediately when we got home. Dense and not too sweet, the individually baked pudding was drizzled with a little simple syrup and served with fresh fruit and a mango dipping sauce.

I enjoyed most of the dishes at Cardamom Hill but left wondering what all the hoopla was about. Should we have tried the Kerala fried chicken that is a specialty there? I missed the traditional trappings of Indian food like naan with raita, authentic or not.

1700 Northside Drive 404-549-7012

Many months had passed since my last visit to Top Flr, and I was itchin’ to go. So when I had the chance to catch up with longtime friend SP recently, it was my first and only choice….nearby, not expensive, and always delicious. Plus, the restaurant has an underground vibe that I thought she would appreciate.

Arriving around 8:00pm, I was surprised that there were no tables available, but it was Friday and good to see my favorite restaurant was still thriving! Preferring to sit at the bar anyway, we scoped out a couple of seats. Ironically, I’ve only eaten upstairs once, on my very first visit.

We were having a hard time deciding on cocktails, finally landing on a specialty drink called Gringo Honeymoon made with Mezcal, lemon juice, cilantro, smoked ginger Sriracha agave syrup (what the hell?), bitters, and ginger beer. Light and refreshing, we both detected an odd aftertaste. Having been a bartender for many years, SP knows her liquor, so she determined it was likely the bitters that imparted the odd flavor. I enjoyed the drink’s spiciness.

On to food, we started off with the white bean hummus. Over the years, this dish has become increasingly spicy, topped with capers and chili oil. Served with a tiny ramekin of pepperoncini and mixed olives with toasted pita triangles, SP and I nibbled on it as we chatted.

Having recently celebrated its fifth year, Top Flr doesn’t require much hands on attention from owners Darren Carr and Jeff Myers. It’s like a well-oiled machine. So I was pleasantly surprised to see both of them at the end of the bar…I snapped a photo for proof!

I was thinking duck confit pizza or tuna flatbread and mussels, but SP doesn’t love mussels and the other two choices seemed like too much bread after the pita appetizer so we opted to split the roasted chipotle chicken with Brussel kimchee and soy reduction. I rarely order chicken when dining out (except for the brined bird with bread salad at Floataway), it just seems so ordinary. Chef Devereux’ chicken, however, is a standout. The meat was juicy and tender, pairing perfectly with the spicy kimchee and the subtle sweetness of the soy reduction.

We should have stopped there but we decided to split a dessert. None of the selections wowed me, but our bartender/server said the chocolate tart was excellent. While we waited for the tart, SP ordered another Gringo Honeymoon, this time omitting the bitters. It tasted exactly the same. I was in the mood for bubbly so I got a glass of prosecco.

A crust made of crushed almonds was filled with an impossibly dense chocolate ganache with crunchy cocoa nibs for textural excitement. A little scoop of intensely flavored espresso gelato topped it off. It was so rich we could hardly finish it….and later we wished we hadn’t.

Top Flr is like a neighborhood secret. SP didn’t even know it was there, but now that she does, I think she will return with her hubby AA. Strangely, LC has never been to Top Flr…perhaps we will all go together. Hell, we may even sit on the top floor.

674 Myrtle Street 404-685-3110

One of my all-time favorites, Floataway Cafe, remains an Atlanta classic after twelve years in business. With so many new restaurants constantly opening, it’s often hard for me to get back to my old standbys.

To be honest, after Anne’s expansion and renovation a couple of years ago, I was afraid the space may have lost its charm. However, when I finally visited a few months later, I found the main dining room’s whimsical atmosphere intact.

Along with the physical renovation came a new chef, Drew Belline, who renovated the somewhat static menu. My favorite dish, the chicken with warm bread salad, was taken off. I would be boycotting Floataway until it was back. But that would turn out to be unnecessary as I called Anne (Quatrano, who owns Floataway, Baccanalia, and Abattoir with partner/husband Clifford Harrison, but you already knew that, right?) and she said I could simply request the brined chicken a day ahead if I wanted it. Fabulous.

That too, would turn out to be unnecessary. By the time I finally revisited last weekend the chicken was back on the menu. From what Anne said, I wasn’t the only one in love with that bird. Funny, I don’t order chicken anywhere else.

Floataway’s menu has both an Italian accent and a Southern one. Having little affection for either, the restaurant and I are an odd couple. There is a section devoted to pastas and another to pizzas. Sweet corn, crowder peas, and a strudel made with apples from Elijay bring it down home. Many of Atlanta’s food writers seem to have some bizarre love affair with their grilled chicken livers but I promise you I won’t be among them.

LC and I made our way through the warehouses on Zonolite to the restaurant’s unlikely location. It was his first Floataway visit and my first time seated in the addition. The newer dining room is spacious but I still prefer the original space.

Clifford Harrison does the wine program and keeps the list well-edited and affordable. We chose the $42 Chateauneuf du Pape Lazaret, a softer red with subtle spice and cherry notes, and ordered an appetizer. Normally I get a few cheeses. Floataway, and now Abattoir, are Atlanta’s culinary stars of cheese and accompaniments. Having studied their compositions, now I do a pretty good rendition at my house. So instead we tried the ridiculously irresistible sounding pizza with roasted figs, prosciutto, gorgonzola, and balsamic.

Anne and Clifford’s people can make bread. And they can make pizza dough too. Chewy and crunchy, the pizza crust held the orgasmic combination of ingredients above topped with bright arugula. Salty, sweet, and sharp. Big enough for a meal for two, we took half of it home. Just wish I had requested it cooked well-done so the center of the crust would have been crisper.

And then there was the entree. Described as wood oven roasted Springer Mountain chicken with warm bread salad. The charred skin covered juicy meat that begged to be eaten with fingers. We obliged. The bread salad lacked the intense vinegary bite it had in its former incarnation, but it was delicious nonetheless. There were pinenuts and wilted arugula but it seems something was missing. Something sweet. Cranberries?

We paired the chicken with a side of fried okra. As you may know, like fried green tomatoes, fried okra can be one of my pet peeves when prepared incorrectly. Just like Miller Union, Floataway buys only local and organic produce. Unlike Miller Union, however, their okra had flavor. Although it was cut lengthwise which is just plain weird, the breading was very light, and didn’t mask the ubergreen freshness of the okra. Damn, it was good.

My dessert experiences at Floataway have been far from stellar including a grainy semifreddo and other somewhat boring cakes and such. Suffice it to say I have taken to skipping dessert there altogether. But the blueberry brown butter tart with buttermilk sorbeto sounded yummy, so we gave it a try.

A thin slice was full of blueberries complemented by the slightly tangy sorbeto. Probably the best dessert I’ve had there but I’m still not swooning over it.

The service, as always, was exceptional. Hopefully I can return before another year passes!

1123 Zonolite Road 404-892-1414

This is one of those events that I would not believe existed if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. Imagine….a packed stadium of 1200 guests watching a wild west show complete with horses jumping through rings of fire and lumberjacks pitted against each other in friendly competition.

Our group of six sat a few rows back….a better view and less smell from the horses, according to DC. Indeed, I would prefer not to smell manure while eating. Dinner is prix fix and served without utensils. From the folks we talked to at Dollywood, both the ride operators and the visitors, it was clear that food in Pigeon Forge would be best if it didn’t require chewing. Attention: all dentists please report to the Smoky Mountains!

Here’s how the Dixie Stampede works: you have a choice of Pepsi or iced tea (would you like some tea with your sugar, sugar?) a creamy vegetable soup is poured from a pitcher into a bowl with a little handle. It tasted like cream of mushroom to me. Another server placed biscuits on each plate with practiced speed.

Shortly after the last sip of soup was slurped, the bowls were whisked away and replaced by a whole rotisserie chicken, which sits all alone on each plate until it is joined by half a potato. Moments later a dry slice of pork joins in, then a half ear of corn on the cob. All the while, horses are pulling wagons with cowgirls singing along to country tunes, all recorded by, you guessed it, Dolly Parton. If there was a story line, I wasn’t paying attention, only that the opposite side of the stadium represented the North, while our side was for the South. Good.

Horses galloped, a woman from the audience was hidden in a barrel, and everyone tore their chickens apart by hand. The skin was not crisp so I pulled it off, picking off bits of leg and thigh. With meat under my nails, I took a big gulp of my tea before gnawing the kernels off the corn cob. The tasteless potato was simply filler. In fact, the entire dinner was filler, designed to entice the hungry masses to see a show at dinnertime.

Our plates were cleared as we packed up the leftover chicken in a doggie bag. The show continued as another wave of servers came by with dessert, huge apple turnovers that could have browned in the oven a few more minutes, but were nonetheless hot and crispy.

At the conclusion, a huge video screen appeared with Dolly singing a patriotic song in a sequined red, white, and blue costume. Yes, it was a spectacle to behold.

Speaking of spectacles, I almost forgot the buffalo! A small herd of well-trained buffalo made a special appearance….don’t ask me why, I can’t explain it.

The show, including food service, was complete in 1 1/2 hours, like clockwork. Also, no photos are allowed so I only took nine or so. Notably, there is no alcohol served during the Dixie Stampede, so make sure to get liquored up beforehand. You’re gonna need it.

Not a pretty sight. Like my trip to Brazil last year, I flew to Germany in First Class and suffered through coach on the way back. If you have never flown First Class, I can assure you the difference in physical comfort and the food service are worth the extra bucks, especially on international flights.

You know how you hear the clanking of silverware as you are stowing your carry-on bags in coach? That’s when service begins in First Class….before the plane even leaves the ground!

In coach, the cart is rolled up to the front, full of heated trays covered in thick foil. Chicken or pasta? Me and Mom laughed because that is always the choice. It’s never steak, or duck, or shrimp. We both chose the chicken which was unceramoniously placed on our trays. No white tablecloths here.

There was a salad topped with flavorless julienned radish, a doughy roll wrapped in plastic, crackers and cheese in wrappers, and a chocolate cookie for dessert, in a wrapper. Classy.

We ate our entrees with plastic forks and knives. To be honest, the chicken entree was quite tasty, paired with a gooey mushroom risotto and baby green beans and carrots. The chocolate cookie was pretty awesome, too.

But Delta saved the worst for last. What seemed like a lifetime after our lunch, they came around with a snack. Once again, Mom accurately predicted what we would be served….a sandwich on an enormous white roll, wrapped in plastic, of course. Plus a little cup of ice cream for dessert.

Separated by a flimsy blue curtain, we were seated just one row behind First Class, yet a world away.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sample a meal from Good Measure Meals, a local company that prepares and delivers healthy gourmet meals.

They offer several calorie options and plans, from dinner only to a full day’s worth of meals and snacks. The best part is that 100% of the profits go to Atlanta nonprofit Open Hand. Seriously cool.

My dinner selection was chicken roulade Florencia topped with mushroom sauce, served with bulgar and lentil pilaf with caramelized onions and Brussels sprouts. Part of a 1200 calorie plan, the meal had 380 calories made up of 11 grams of fat, 43 grams of carbs, and 29 grams of protein. It was relatively high in sodium, 800 mg, compared to many frozen entrees I purchase that hover around the 600 mg mark.

Although a typical dinner that I prepare myself is closer to 300 calories, being lower in carbs and protein, I was pleased with the quality and flavor of this meal. As the name suggests, the chicken was a thin breast piece, rolled up with a spinach filling. The Brussels sprouts were steamed tender but lacked excitement. Bulgur and lentil pilaf was earthy with a nice toothsome quality, contributing to the whopping 11 grams of fiber in the meal. It was hearty and satisfying.

If I were a busy dieter, I would definitely consider using Good Measure Meals. They are fresh and creative, plus I admire their efforts to give back to the community.

We tried to go to Sound Table. Really, we did. But our friend CL was out of sorts and swore I said Top Flr. So, of course, that is where we ended up.

It was late-ish and I was hungry-ish. B and I made our entrance, said our hellos, and quickly ordered some wine. Quick, however, wasn’t the manner of delivery. It wasn’t N’s fault, all of the glasses were dirty. My lack of patience made the wait seem like forever but it was probably only ten minutes.

Once we each had a glass of Bordeaux, we were ready to order food. The roasted chicken and kimchee plate at Taste of Atlanta had me craving the actual dish. B decided on the pappardelle, the current version with mushrooms. Both of us love Brussels sprouts so we had the Brussels au gratin and the irresistible mac ‘n’ cheese on the side.

As is often the case, seated at the bar, meals at Top Flr become a communal experience. Folks show up, pull up a chair and by the end of the evening you’ve sampled food from friends and strangers alike.

PLB was there with his awesome wife J. JM was running the show. O popped in and joined us, ordering the mouthwatering duck confit pizza. Our entrees and smoldering sides came. My chicken was a tiny little thing, more like a Cornish game hen, however, the portion was rather large. Its crispy brown skin covered the succulent dark meat (did I have three leg quarters?) atop a soy reduction, paired with perfectly spicy kimchee made with Brussels sprouts.

The other preparation of Brussels sprouts, gratin with bacon, cream and fennel was one of the most amazing dishes I’ve had in recent memory. O took a bite and said “I got a big chunk of pork and it was goooooood!” I commented to Dinner Party sommelier JD who was working the bar that I could eat a bowl of it for breakfast and he concurred.

B’s pappardelle was the very definition of comfort food, rich and earthy with chanterelle, oyster, and lobster mushrooms in a creamy truffle jus. The simplicity of the pappardelle belies the hours of labor it takes to make it in-house. It is easy for diners to take the flawless pasta for granted.

An acquaintance of O’s was seated an few stools down from me and we got to chatting about our mutual love of food. Later he offered me a taste of his roasted squash.

My least favorite dish of the evening was the mac ‘n’ cheese. It was a little drier than usual. O shared his duck confit pizza which was as decadent and delicious as ever.

Sound Table, sorry we stood you up. We’ll be back soon, I promise!

674 Myrtle Street 404-685-3110

Piedmont Park’s Green concert last week featured legendary band The Eagles, an event to benefit the park’s Conservancy. There were general admission lawn tickets for around $65 and VIP tickets for over $250. The difference? Food and drinks.

VIP ticket holders were treated to a pre-party at the W Midtown with complimentary cocktails and passed hors d’oeuvres, then they were whisked to the concert via Cooper Atlanta Transportation chauffered executive coach. By “whisked” I mean “a slow crawl in ridiculously thick traffic”. Despite the delay everyone arrived in time for the show.

Once at the park, VIP’s could enter through a side gate and go directly to the hospitality tent where tables of boxed meals labeled “chicken”, “salmon”, or “veggie” were ready to be taken as well as a chili station with fixin’s like shredded cheese, salsa, and sour cream. The chili was good and meaty, and especially comforting with the weather getting a bit nippy.

Both LC and I took a chicken meal, got a beer and made our way to the assigned VIP seats which were, ironically, in the back. Neither of us were hungry but I had to sample what was in the box. Grilled chicken on field greens with champagne vinaigrette, potato salad, enormous blackberries, a roll, and a small brownie. I nibbled on the chicken and salad while LC retrieved more drinks. Everything was super-fresh. Only failure was the crunchy, undercooked potatoes in the salad. The chewy brownie more than made up for it. I wish I knew who was responsible for the catering but there is no hint on the website. I thought they did a very good job, although I’ve heard reports they ran out of food later. (Note to complainers: You might want to consider arriving on time. Food isn’t unlimited).

We took a bathroom break in the designated VIP bathroom trailers, then made our way through the crowd to the stage just in time for The Eagles. Familiar aromas wafted through the air as the band launched into spooky favorites like Hotel California and Witchy Woman. Great show!