Hot Dish Review

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

Lately I’ve found myself eating lots of Italian food, ironically not among my favorite cuisines. Meals at Davio’s and LPC, however, are slowly changing my Americanized-spaghetti-and-meatballs view of what Italian cooking is….or should be.

STG Trattoria is Brian Lewis’ newish spot, named with the initials of his three sons. Hidden away right in the middle of Buckhead, it’s miles from his other restaurant, Bocado on the Westside. Having only tried brunch there, an evening visit was in order.

The vaulted entryway lined with bottles of wine is just as impressive at night, the soft lighting adding romance to the modern industrial space. Our group of five arrived for our reservation, eager for libations and an appetizer or two. Heather seated us at the communal table by the open kitchen where I could watch chef Josh Hopkins, transplanted from Abattoir, ready each plate for service.

We were given a tablet containing the wine list with click-on descriptions of each….ingenious if you have hours to contemplate your choice, but we found navigating the computerized list between five of us to be frustrating. Their Italian-style Amaro apertifs have made a splash in Atlanta’s evolving cocktail scene, but the guys went with classic martinis while us chicks chose wines by the glass.

We started with the roasted shrimp and calamari served over soft polenta and dressed with squid ink vinaigrette. The dish wouldn’t win a beauty contest, but might win a blind taste test. A starter of roasted quail that I was intent on ordering unfortunately changed its accompaniment from figs to cannellini beans, quickly removing it from my “to eat” list.

An order of bruschetta was an unusual combination of Fall’s quintessential squash, the butternut, crispy prosciutto, fontina, and arugula on three large pieces of toast. Everyone loved it. Realizing that the portions were normal rather than super-sized, we chose a third starter, the roasted duck breast. Served in the mini cast-iron skillet in which it was roasted, the duck was finished with preserved chanterelles and celery leaf….a comforting, earthy dish.

We decided to share two pizzas, one topped with speck, smoked grana, cacio di roma, castelvetrano (now that’s a mouthful) olives, tomato sugo, and arugula, the other with roasted king trumpet, beech, and oyster mushrooms, pancetta, fontina, and rosemary. Both were on wafer thin crusts, nicely charred in the oven, and scantily clad with the aforementioned toppings. There is no “extra cheese” or “quadrupel meat” in Italy. My only concern was the toppings separated quite easily from the crust, leaving bare spots.

One in our group was Italian, so it was interesting to get his impressions of the meal’s authenticity. He ordered a pasta dish, the braised lamb ragu with ricotta and oregano over tagliatelle, for everyone to try. Personally, pasta with marinara has no appeal whatsoever, but he said the flavor was good, although he would have preferred bigger pieces of meat. Everyone agreed the texture of the pasta was perfectly al dente’.

Most of us were on round two of drinks when the pizzas were polished off. But we still had room for something sweet! Of the three desserts offered, we chose two: a panna cotta trio and a chocolate budino.

Having eaten a luscious budino at LPC the week before, I described it to my dining companions as a cross between cake and pudding, gooey and warm in the center. Chef Hopkins’ version is more dense, much like a traditional English pudding. It was served chilled and topped with strawberries.

The panne cotta were in three flavors, honey with preserved lemon, vanilla with blueberry compote, and cappuccino. Naturally I assumed my favorite would be the latter, but surprisingly I fell for the honey in spite of the lemon. In fact, it was the chewy, sugar-coated texture of the lemon peels that won me over.

Leave your expectations of garlic bread and mounds of fettucine alfredo at home. Lewis’ vision of an authentic trattoria is realized at STG. Simple and surprisingly light.

102 West Paces Ferry Road 404-844-2879

BB and I arrived at the corner of Spring and 5th Street, uncertain of the parking situation. Thankfully there was valet just steps from the door of The Spence. Stepping inside, there wasn’t a hint of the location’s former incarnations, most recently Water Haven (which I never visited) and an old favorite, The Globe.

All windows and white brick on one side are a stark contrast to the umber banquettes against deep brown on the other, with a completely open kitchen serving as the focal point. A cluster of glowing orbs in a black net are suspended over the main dining room creating a subtley sexy atmosphere. Sleek industrial sheet metal tables with red stenciled numbers are set with mismatched silverware, details I loved.

Blais wasn’t there, surely busy shooting one of the celebrity chef TV shows he stars in. But it didn’t matter, his staff is so well-trained, so professional, they didn’t miss a beat. Of their seven retro-modern cocktails, we ended up trying three, the first being the Riva Trophy made with bourbon and orange bitters for BB. I tried the sparkling Saint-Hilare on Justin Amick’s smart wine list, divided into the “tried and true” and “leap of faith”. My selection was in the latter category.

Our server, Peter, was very entertaining, all the while providing seamless service. BB and I started with two of the smaller plates to share, the duck pappardelle and the hamachi with crispy lamb. The vague menu descriptions leave much to the imagination, but you can be sure, with Blais at the wheel, there could be some sharp curves.

The wide ribbons of pasta are made with beets, giving them a rich burgundy hue, but thankfully imparting no beet flavor. Pieces of duck confit mingled with the pasta and sat upon a base of cocoa gremolata, all of which was presented on a speckled ceramic dish. It was perfect.

Our second selection didn’t fare so well. Delicate hamachi was formed into spirals, matched with bite-size pieces of deep-fried veal sweetbreads. Drops of smoked aioli decorated the plate. The presentation on a wooden dish was stunning, but the disparate elements didn’t work together.

Round two of cocktails: BB tried the March Hare, a bourbon drink with chai bitters and a clever ice cube made of black tea. Changing my bubbles from light to dark, I ordered a lambrusco.

We decided to share an entree and chose two sides to go with it. Roasted pork belly with turnip, apple and mustard, a dish ordered by two chicks at the neighboring table, was delivered in true Blais style under a smoke filled glass dome. They were impressed and so were we, the aroma of bacon filling the air. My intention was to have our sides, fried Brussels sprouts and squash creme brulee’, to accompany the pork, however, they both came out prior to the theatrical presentation of our entree.

Brussels sprouts were halved and fried, then drizzled with a tangy Thai vinaigrette. Tender and crispy, they would have been even better with the pork. A ramakin of pureed yellow squash had a serious bruleed sugar crust, making every bite a creamy, crunchy delight.

Back to the bacon. Our entree arrived covered with the smoke-filled dome. We took a deep breath as Peter lifted it, releasing the porky fragrance. Blais should bottle it. The meltingly tender meat fell away from the fat easily with our forks. Roasted turnips and cubes of apple provided just enough sweet and tart to balance the rich pork belly.

And now it was time for sugar…and the third cocktail, milk punch & cookies. I hear they make it in-house with brandy, spices, sugar, and whey. The apertif glass is served with a few tiny, chewy white chocolate cookies. Just adorable and awesome.

A recent review of The Spence was accompanied by a photo of a dessert. I wanted it. The menu description belied the complex construction. Toasted peanuts were sprinkled on milk chocolate mousse and a dollop of burnt banana ice cream. The speckled dish fools one into thinking there is more going on, but it is perfectly crafted simplicity.

Impressive.

75 5th Street NW 404-892-9111

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

As some of you may know, Italian food is not among my favorites. However, sometimes I am happily surprised by restaurants like Davio’s that serve Northern Italian dishes or the occassional kickass pizza like the ones LC and I enjoyed at Hearth recently.

When I learned that STG Trattoria, Brian Lewis’ new Buckhead hotspot, was beginning brunch service, I wanted to give it a try. The dinner reviews have been promising and I was excited to see what former abattoir chef Josh Hopkins would bring to the table…literally.

The restaurant was as hard to find as reported, but once there, I was impressed with the vaulted entryway lined with wine bottles and the space’s minimal industrial design warmed up with dark wood accents.

LC and I chose a table by the windows, flooded with sunlight. I ordered a coffee and he got a Mexican Coke. There were several selections on the menu that intrigued me like the duck hash or ricotta, spinach and mushroom frittata, but I ended up ordering the eggs benedict pizza. LC tried the baked eggs with proscuitto and sausage bolognese and white beans despite my attempts to steer him in a different direction.

Our server brought out two iron skillets, one with LC’s baked eggs and the other was the duck hash with poached farm eggs and arugula, the dish that I had debated about but decided against. She hurried to the kitchen to put in the pizza order. Meanwhile, LC and I sampled the extra dish, full of tender roasted duck and new potatoes. Unfortunately, it lacked flavor. I was glad the eggs benedict pizza was in the oven.

LC was enjoying his dish, but I was perplexed that neither egg dishes was served with bread. Italian food without bread? A thick slice of grilled ciabatta was the missing component. Not a fan of white beans or bolognese sauce, my distaste for his dish wasn’t a surprise.

My brunch pizza was almost large enough to serve two, its authentic thin and crispy crust topped with tiny poached eggs, prosciutto, and arugula simply dressed with olive oil and lots of black pepper. There’s no mention of cheese, but I believe there was a sprinkle. Although I was keeping my fingers crossed for a traditional Hollandaise drizzled on top of my pizza, instead there was an aioli served alongside with the taste and texture of creamed butter. Seems the whole idea of eggs benedict was lost in this Italian translation.

It was only STG’s third Sunday of brunch service, so I expected a few kinks. I look forward to a return visit for dinner, particularly to see the space at night. And to try the roasted quail with figs, spinach and pancetta and one of their signature pizzas.

102 West Paces Ferry 404-844-2879

Originally posted about a year ago….funny, it sounds like it could have happened yesterday.Friday night LC and I found the dining room at JCT Kitchen jam packed, despite the torrential downpour and severe thunderstorm warning. We had an evening to ourselves and wanted to enjoy a nice adult meal at a cool place.

Surprisingly, I had never made it to JCT before. It was one of the first restaurants to lure the trendy dining crowd to this somewhat industrialized neighborhood. Everything I had heard was positive so I was excited to give it a go.

The space is open, exuding warmth and simplicity, much like its neighbors Quinones Room and Baccanalia in the same complex. Across the way is the White Provisions building home to culinary star Abattoir and right next to the original Yeah! Burger.

Seated across from each other at a two-top along the wall, LC commented that conversation was nearly impossible, given the constant chatter from tables nearby. It was true, the atmosphere was anything but intimate. We would have preferred the patio had the weather cooperated.

We started with cocktails from their creative list, utilizing spirits like bitters, bourbon and rye, which has become rather de rigeur for upscale trendy restaurants these days. I was excited to see a sloe gin fizz on the list, taking me back to my childhood when my parents hosted card games and my Mom made this drink by the pitcher.

After delivering our cocktails, our server read off an entire menu’s worth of specials. I almost stopped him, having already decided on the bacon wrapped pork loin, when he said the word “duck”. The game had instantly changed. It was a breast and confit, I assumed a leg, with an orange champagne sauce served with sauteed peppers….a weird pairing but he had me at “duck”.

But first we wanted to sample a couple of starters, the “angry” mussels and the bacon wrapped figs with blue cheese. We found both dishes to be very impressive. The figs were not baked but rather raw, sliced in half with a thick strip of chewy bacon intertwined among the halves, which rested in an intensely sharp blue cheese sauce that provided the appropriate balance to the dish. A smattering of toasted almonds added a fun crunchy element.

A medium-sized bowl of mussles arrived, steaming in their aromatic broth flavored with peppered bacon, serano chilis, and onion. Although small, the shellfish were great. I especially enjoyed dipping the crusty rustic bread in the spicy broth. We loved ‘em!

When our server checked in I switched to prosecco. LC ordered the shrimp ‘n’ grits and I went for the duck, of course. His dish was richer than the Kennedys, grits engulfed in cheeses and butter, topped with shrimp and a battered and deep fried poached egg. A week’s worth of calories and fat, but decadently delicious.

My duck, however, was not exactly what I expected. Yes, the breast was nicely displayed with a crispy skin. Based upon our server’s description, I was expecting a leg confit, but instead the breast was served on a mound of shredded confit, seasoned with the orange champagne sauced described, creating a concoction which sort of reminded me of BBQ. The oily, crispy, gaminess of the confit was entirely lost. I wasn’t thrilled about the peppers to begin with and they did little to elevate the entree.

An unexpected favorite of the evening was the side dish of corn succotash that LC ordered. Bathed in butter, it was the epitome of Summer in the South. Ironically LC had actually changed his order to the squash, but it was a happy mistake.

We decided to forego edible dessert in favor of the liquid variety upstairs at JCT Bar. An acoustic guitarist entertained the crowd of thirty-somethings inside as the drizzle continued outside. A train chugged past as we headed to the car, anxious to get home and work off the surplus calories.

1198 Howell Mill Road 404-355-2252

B is addicted to Groupon. She’ll buy anything that’s a good deal….golf lessons, restaurant coupons, clown suits. Once you buy it, you are obligated to use it, no matter how ridiculous it might be. But her recent purchase of a $35 food voucher at La Fourchette for a mere $17 was not ridiculous at all, so we made a reservation for Saturday night.

La Fourchette mean “the fork”, a reasonable monicker for a place that serves French inspired cuisine that one should probably eat with a fork….or does it imply something more?

The restaurant’s sterile glass exterior on busy Piedmont Avenue belies its simple yet inviting space, warmly lit and full of young and trendy diners. B arrived tout de suite and we proceeded to order a couple of glasses of inexpensive bubbly. Cheers!

We had so much catching up to do we almost forgot to look at the menu. Among the list of ten appetizers, a couple intrigued her and a couple intrigued me. I would have tried the smoked trout tart with pink lady apples, or even the foie gras despite its unfortunate au torchon preparation, especially since it was paired with roasted black mission figs and brioche, but it was the pan roasted sweetbreads that made both B and I salivate.

Served on a smudge of slightly bitter fennel puree, and slightly bitter kale, the sweetbreads were thickly sliced and perfectly accented with sweet and tart cherry confiture…a bit of each on my fork reminded me that the generous portion and overall deliciousness made it worth the hefty $16 price tag. There went half our coupon already!

B and I moved on to red wine, giving a spicy red zin a try, at $12 a glass. Our server recommended the grilled loup de mer. B often orders fish so she took his advice. It was served with leeks, crispy fingerlings, and saffron emulsion. She loved the little discs of potato. My bite was tasty but hardly memorable.

I thought momentarily about the bistro steak frites with sauce bordelaise and the grilled pork loin, but was predictably compelled to order the duck confit instead.

Two thigh and leg portions with nicely crisped skin were placed upon a generous heap of black eyed peas and leeks. I was looking forward to the leeks but the side was really just peas…and their eyes were green. It was an odd choice to pair with duck. Much like pork and foie gras, a sweet accompaniment somewhere on the plate is always a nice contrast to rich duck meat. Ironically, the veal was served with apricot puree and brocollini….probably a better match with the duck.

I rarely order chicken because, well, it’s just chicken. But La Fourchette’s roasted chicken with local okra, tomato confit, bacon, and basil puree sounds really good. Entrees ranged from a somewhat boring vegetarian plate with all the sides mentioned above for $18 to B’s loup de mer coming in at a whopping $32.

Much like the interior of the space itself, the duck was nice, just not compelling. Dessert, on the other hand, was a deliriously delicious plate of little square beignets tossed with orange blossom honey and sliced almonds with a bit of honey ice cream on the side. Crisp, light, and sticky, all at the same time.

I hate to belabor the point, but the expenditure at La Fourchette was surprisingly high, especially considering our $35 coupon. But we forked it over, with the sweet memory of the beignets and the last sips of cote de rhone softening the blow.

3133 Piedmont Road 404-748-1229

Hard to believe my only visit to ESS was for lunch shortly after it opened. Having gained notoriety in Athens, Georgia, Hugh Acheson’s Atlanta baby was born about the same time as a multitude of similarly styled restaurants, all boasting their locally inspired, organic, farm to table philosophy…blahblahblah.

Yes, we love Miller Union, and 4th & Swift, and all the little cousins with a Southern drawl, but after a while, the mere mention of a farm sent me squealing like a stuck pig. However, good food is…well, it’s just good!

So when AD said we were meeting friends there for dinner, I was excited to return. After nineteen months of travelling the world, she is back in the states, visiting friends and generally causing mayhem.

BG and his wife AR, AD’s former colleague BK, me and LC were all late, finally being seated around 8:45pm, each of us ravenous. But first, we needed something to calm our frazzled nerves….a bottle of Cote du Rhone perhaps? Vodka martinis for the guys were in miniature glasses that looked more appropriate for after dinner cordials….I guess that’s why they ended up having five each by the end of the night!

Not as evident in Executive Chef Ryan Smith’s lunch menu, what sets ESS apart from its Southern counterparts is the intensely creative, if not somewhat bizarre pairings. Shrimp with Benton’s ham, okra, crowder peas, and bourbon sour cherries?

BG suggested we start with the steak tartare, a perfect choice since it is AD’s favorite. Not usually a fan of raw beef, I chimed in with the pork belly starter to share. A plate of bread and rolls were served with fig butter that was grainy and utterly flavorless, a sad condiment for the fantastic crusty artisan bread.

The two appetizers arrived, promptly attacked by twelve hungry hands. Crisp pork belly was served atop a generous helping of creamed kimchi rice grits. A sprinkling of peanuts and pickled daikon completed the unexpected, yet perfectly balanced composition. And it was awesome, but not nearly as awesome as the steak tartare.

With an equally weird description containing preserved lemon-caper emulsion, crisp egg (what is that?) and cheese puffs (Frito Lay?), I found myself wishing we had ordered six of these and nothing else. Turns out the “cheese puff” was a white crispy thing that resembled chiccarones. The “crisp egg” was a breaded and deep fried quail egg that oozed its lovely golden goodness over the creamy, sensuous steak. Raw meat is kinda sexy.

In a remarkable twist of fate, (almost) each of us ordered a different entree….trout for AD and BG, chicken and dumplings for AR, prime New York strip for LC. It was a difficult choice for me….duck or pork? Since BK chose the duck and promised to let me try it, I went for the Riverview Farms pork loin.

We coerced the last drop of wine out of its bottle and proceeded to reds by the glass, carefully selected by award winning sommelier Steven Grubbs, which could have contributed to the blurriness of the entree photos, but I can’t be certain.

All meat dishes were presented thinly sliced, like my pork loin with its eggplant puree. I didn’t notice any butterbeans or maitake mushrooms….perhaps they added heft and flavor to the puree, which I don’t remember at all. I do recall the pork’s smoky flavor, paired perfectly with a sweet chow chow made with burgundy wine.

I sampled two other entrees. LC’s steak was underwhelming, mainly due to the flavorless parslied farroto that was served with it. However, the pickled ramp jam that reminded me of delicious caramelized onions redeemed the dish. The best plate of the evening was BK’s duck, wisely paired with apricot mostarda, celery root puree, pak choi, and the unusual hominy….again, cooking outside the box.

We went to Vanquish for liquid dessert, drama and debauchery.

999 Peachtree 404-541-1105

Atlanta’s dining scene is diverse to say the least, from Buford Highway’s ethnic dives to the new farm-to-table concepts. Beyond the hotspots, however, there are those that fly under the radar…..literally.

The 57th Fighter Group Restaurant, located right next to Dekalb-Peachtree Airport (PDK), has been there since 1981, but many folks have never heard of it. Having undergone renovations in 2009, the aviation themed restaurant is once again becoming a dining destination. Visitors have a great view of the runway and there’s a patio to enjoy a cocktail while watching planes land and take off.

My first visit was last week when I went to pick up LC and perhaps have a drink at the bar together. His cousin PC is a pilot and they were just getting back from a business trip. I was surprised by the restaurant’s warm ambiance, its European farmhouse architecture made extra cozy by numerous fireplaces, exposed brick, and tons of memorabilia from the 57th Fighter Squadron.

Since it was getting late, we decided to go ahead and dine there, choosing a romantic, secluded booth. LC ordered a slightly dirty vodka martini with blue cheese stuffed olives, his favorite. Smooth. I got a Guinness. Also smooth. The concise menu isn’t about organic produce or trendy charcuterie, but rather an updated listing of classics. Appetizers include jumbo lump crab cakes, shrimp cocktail, and fried calamari….somewhat pedestrian but don’t forget the place is in Chamblee.

Short on time, we went straight for the entrees. The duck breast caught my attention with its ginger carrot puree and caramelized pears, but alas, the duck was no longer served with those accompaniments. Now it was half a duck served over polenta. I ordered it anyway, substituting green beans for the polenta.

LC ordered the bourbon glazed salmon, which came with roasted red potatoes and green beans. I took a bite and thought it a bit fishy, as is often the case when the skin is left on. He really enjoyed it though, fishy or not.

My bird’s skin was crispy, having been flash fried after roasting, then flavored with their five spice honey glaze. It was served with roasted portobello mushroom and hericots vert….the green bean’s superior French cousin. I ate the duck’s dark and succulent leg and thigh, leaving the entire breast to take home. The dish was really quite delicious. Portobellos were earthy, hericots vert slightly crisp and perfectly seasoned.

Other entrees include osso bucco, Chilean sea bass and the quintessential filet mignon. Standard fare, but sometimes standard is good.

3829 Clairmont Road 770-234-0057

A long overdue visit to Serpas immediately reminded me of what sets apart a good restaurant from a great one.

There are only a couple of foods that I would categorize as disgusting….chicken livers and cucumbers. Then there are a few that I can eat, but generally choose not to, such as tuna, broccoli, and beets.

It is a rare restaurant that can make me want to eat tuna. Top Flr is one, Serpas is the other.

My first experience with Scott Serpas’ tuna tartar was at the opening media dinner. I would not have ordered it, however, our big table of food writers received a chef’s tasting of practically half the menu.

Many of the tastes were fantastic, but I was particularly enthralled with the chef’s tuna tartar, its tiny cubes of fresh ahi tossed with diced onion and green apple in a sweet and spicy sesame dressing. He served housemade potato chips alongside for scooping up the tartar, providing a slightly salty crunch that complimented the silky sweet tuna.

On a subsequent visit with B and our sad excuse for boyfriends at the time, we ordered several appetizers to share before our entrees. That is when I met the Serpas house salad. Butter lettuce, candied pecans, goat cheese, and his signature blistered grape vinaigrette. It’s just a salad, right? Not quite. Like the dressing on his tuna tartar, Serpas has a knack for sauces and such that is unrivaled. This salad makes me salivate.

A few other appetizers remain on the menu from those opening months like the delicious eggplant hushpuppies and savory crispy duck rolls. The chef’s Louisiana heritage is evident in dishes like chicken-andouille gumbo and flash fried oysters, both dishes he introduced during his long stint at Two Urban Licks. It is easy to make a meal of starters at Serpas.

After being snowed in for days, LC and I ventured out for a meal of modern comfort food. Chef Serpas’ approach remains unpretentious, stearing clear of silly trends, although I did see he added an appetizer of pork rillette.

The space is industrial chic with a dose of Southern charm. A mural that looks like billowing orange clouds at first glance is actually a photo of cotton. An open kitchen allows diners to see Serpas in action. There is a marked lack of chaos as he expedites orders.

Both of us were having a hard time deciding on drinks so we ended up trying a specialty cocktail made with tequila, pear compote and bitters. I considered a temperanillo or pinot noir but ended up ordering a Brooklyn Chocolate Stout. Well, they were out of the beer so my next choice was another specialty cocktail with gin and fig jam, a better choice than his. LC tried a Dixie ale later that he really enjoyed.

Thankfully, LC likes to share so we started out with the tried and true tuna tartar and the fried green tomato and crab stack. The tuna was as amazing as ever with just a hint of sweetness and a dose of heat that creeps up on your palate.

My history with fried green tomatoes is lengthy, having grown up in the South eating my Grandma’s, sliced thin with a scant cornmeal and flour coating. I often have issues with fried green tomatoes being served as an appetizer since they are really just like any other vegetable side, to be eaten with your protein. No matter, here they were, as an appetizer, all gussied up with crab and avocado, both of which I love. I had to have it.

The stack was comprised of two slices of fried green tomatoes layered with crab salad. One of the tomato slices was perfectly thin and tender, although a bit heavy on the breading, while the other was sliced too thick and therefore hard to cut. I didn’t find the avocado until the end, when a bit of it made an appearance, perhaps going unnoticed due to its hue being identical to that of the tomatoes, or it could be that the kitchen accidently went light on it. That’s a shame because I love avocado and it might have swayed my overall opinion of the dish. It was good, not great.

We decided to split the duck breast for our main course, along with the house salad. Again, I can’t even explain how perfect that salad is. The duck, cooked to medium, was stuffed with pecans and cranberries, then rolled and wrapped in bacon. Good Lord! Three pieces were placed on a creamy bed of pureed sweet potatoes with a hint of chili. I swear, there couldn’t be a dish with more bells and whistles for me than this one. It didn’t just sound or look pretty, it tasted gorgeous. And that’s coming from a chick that likes a crispy skin on her duck breast. I didn’t miss it.

Despite the duck being an obvious choice for me, I still had difficulty not ordering the jumbo sea scallops with Serpas’ rich and fragrant panang curry. LC considered the braised beef short ribs before I trumped him with the duck. A diner seated next to us had the gigantic veal porterhouse….I swear it must have weighed five pounds!

In an unexpected turn of events, we skipped dessert. On our way out I said hello to Scott. He’s such a genuinely great guy and knows by best friend B quite well. My next visit will undoubtedly be with her for brunch.

Three out of four dishes were stellar. Days later, I am still reliving the salad, the duck, the tuna. So, if I didn’t mention it before, that is what sets the good apart from the great and why Serpas is in my Top Ten list of Atlanta restaurants!

659 Auburn Avenue, suite 501 404-688-0040