Hot Dish Review

Now making a weekly appearance in my lunchtime repetoire:
This is one of the best salads ever! The original recipe comes from the February 2009 issue of Food & Wine Magazine. I still have it bookmarked, the pages filthy from making the dressing dozens of times, although by now, I’ve committed it to memory, and made a few changes. Here is my version:

BITTER GREENS WITH FIGS AND FOG

1/2 small head radicchio, finely shredded
1 Belgian endive, thinly sliced crosswise
1 C. baby arugula
1 1/2 oz. cooked organic chicken, cut up
7-10 whole unsalted almonds
1 dried calmyrna fig, chopped
1 oz. Humboldt Fog goat cheese, cubed

DRESSING (this is a double recipe, you’ll want extra!)

3 tblsp. extra-virgin olive oil
3 tblsp. fig vinegar (or raspberry)
3 tblsp. sugar free apricot preserves
1 shallot, very thinly sliced
1 tsp. dried rosemary leaves
1/2 tsp. dried thyme
freshly ground pepper and salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Toast the raw almonds on a cookie sheet for 10 minutes, and let cool, then coarsely chop. (I make a big batch to save time, also great served with cheeses).

Let the sliced shallots marinate in the vinegar for 10 minutes. Meanwhile add the oil, rosemary, and thyme to a small saucepan. Heat over moderate heat for 2 minutes until it sizzles. Stir in the apricot preserves and heat until melted, about 1 minute. Add the shallots and vinegar and cook an additional minute. Season with salt and pepper.

Toss the lettuces, warm chicken, figs, and almonds in a large bowl and drizzle the warm dressing, to taste. Top with chunks of the cheese. (Note: the original recipe calls for regular goat cheese, see photo in magazine below)

This recipe makes one huge salad or 2-4 servings as a side, in which case I add more almonds, figs, and cheese but omit the chicken. The sweetness of the preserves and figs are the perfect match to the bitterness of the greens.

Saturday night B and I dined at Abattoir. I was interested to hear what chef and partner Josh Hopkins thought of my interview with him and the article on the restaurant that just came out in the current Atlanta’s Finest Dining. And of course, we were craving some freshly butchered meat. (Abattoir means slaughterhouse in French, by the way.)

Waiting for B at the bar, I ordered my usual Karl Erbes riesling poured by the gorgeous bartender with the mesmerizing eyes. We decided to make ourselves at home there rather than at a table, as we often prefer. It’s just more interactive! I had a chance to meet Rick, the restaurant’s manager, who was a gracious host.

The space is like a modern barn, with rough unpolished wood, light gray banquettes, and high ceilings. Lighting is warm and cozy and makes everyone look gorgeous.

I think it’s worth mentioning that, unlike many food writers, I don’t see the problem in writing a review based on one visit, even if it’s a media dinner. Good is good. And bad is, well, not so good. My opinion and impressions generally remain consistent if I visit once or ten times. And really, it’s just not that serious folks.

So, on this, my second visit to Abattoir, I was excited to try something new. I had eaten my way through half the menu at the media dinner a couple of months ago, loving the rabbit rillette, the chicharrones, and the lamb liver fritters. I started with a salad of roasted figs, gorgonzola, and bacon, the heady flavors tempered by fresh greens. Divine.

Our bartender, now our server, delivered a lovely crisp baguette with butter as I switched to a glass of the smooth cab B was drinking. She chose a couple of cheeses, one of which was my standby, the Humboldt Fog, served with Marcona almonds. Cheese service at all of Anne Quatrano and Clifford Harrison’s restaurants is always stellar.

One of my colleagues said the quail was awesome so that’s what I ordered. Stuffed with sausage and served with a succotash of cabbage and bacon, it was true comfort food. B chose the slow cooked rabbit (I referred to it as a wascal-y wabbit) as her main, with stewed okra and tomatoes. As we noshed on bread, cheese and wine B struck up a conversation with J, a fellow diner at the bar. We ended up sampling his lamb which he described as rich and somewhat gamey. No problem, we like gamey. My horoscope said I would meet some interesting people tonight.

There was bacon in my salad, bacon in my entree, so why not bacon in the dessert? Abattoir’s maple bacon beignets are already nearly famous. Doughnuts drizzled with syrup, they are as good as they look.

The restaurant was busy throughout the evening but as the crowds waned, chef Hopkins came out to say hello….how nice!

Despite being known for offal, none was ingested on this visit.