Hot Dish Review

This may be hard to believe. Despite its location five minutes down the street from my condo and the positive media attention since it’s opening eight years ago, I had never visted P’cheen until last weekend. It was already on top of my short list when friend BB, owner of There Brookhaven, stopped by my office with their revamped menu and some gluttonous gossip. Armed with this titillating information, I couldn’t put off a visit another day, so I talked LC into giving it a try that very night.

Having never visited the former incarnation of P’cheen, I can’t compare the decor before and after, but the space was casual and funky, with bamboo shades and copper trimmings adding warmth. Music was too loud initially, although our late arrival (around 9:30pm) would indicate that most folks have finished dining and have turned to drinking in many establishments….but not here, and not us.

Now for the gossip. Jeff Myers, formerly partner at Top Flr and still sharing ownership of Sound Table with fellow DJ Karl Injex, was expediting dishes alongside owner Keiran Neely. Coupled with the dining room makeover which Myers completed almost overnight on a $500 budget, one might conclude some sort of partnership had been arranged, but again, it’s only gossip.

We debated briefly over sitting outside where it was chilly, or indoors where it was loud, finally deciding on a table inside where we promptly ordered drinks. LC will often try a cocktail from the specialty list, this time ordering a black tea infused moonshine with lemon. I ordered an inexpensive glass of bubbly, but later switched to LC’s impressive selection, a new cocktail developed by Nate Shuman of Proof and Provision.

Moving on to the gluttony. P’cheen’s new menu is designed for sharing, with a variety of small plates that run the gamut from frog legs to turtle soup. Although I recommended we order only four dishes, it was impossible to narrow it down to so few, especially since LC threw in the Thai grilled chicken wings as our server was walking off. No surprise there.

BB had recommended the grilled octopus but it unfortunately didn’t make the cut. Instead we ordered the coconut curried mussels, baked jumbo lump crab mac ‘n’ cheese, potted duck confit (I insisted), Malaysian steak, sorghum glazed baby carrots, and the previously mentioned wings.

I was hoping a couple of dishes would arrive first, then perhaps a couple more, but everything came out almost at once, covering the surface of our tiny two-top. Coconut curried mussels were reminiscent of chef Devereux’ version at Top Flr, although not as spicy. Malaysian steak was in fact a salad, much like the beef salad I’ve ordered at Surin for years. Baby lettuces, cucumber, shaved onion, and cilantro were topped with a generous portion of thinly sliced steak, cooked medium.

Who can resist baked mac ‘n’ cheese? Neither of us, apparently. I loved the crispy edges of elbow noodles and cheese, finding the subtle bits of crab when I dug deeper into the cheesy goodness. I also can’t resist duck confit. P’cheen serves the pulled meat in a bit of light broth in a tiny Mason jar. Thick slices of grilled sourdough provided the crunchy vehicle for the duck, perfectly paired with a sweet and sour cherry chutney.

The Thai grilled chicken wings, a surviving dish from the original menu, were glazed with a spicy sauce then charred until crisp. LC would have been happy with a dozen of these and nothing else, except maybe the moonshine. However, it was his idea to order the carrots…we needed a veggie, right? Whole baby carrots in every shade of orange, yellow, and even purple, turned out to be one of my favorite dishes of the evening.

As we were licking the remnants from each plate, we noticed a bicycle parade passing in front of the restaurant, some riders with brightly colored afro wigs bobbing as they passed. Our car would not be retrievable from valet just yet (yes, thankfully there is valet!), so we ordered a couple of shots of moonshine, this time choosing vanilla bean infused. Smooth dessert.

Myers was spinning at the DJ booth in the back as we left, waving goodbye to him and the new and improved P’cheen.

701-5 Highland Avenue 404-529-8800

I’m going to have to eat my words. Maybe with some pesto. I always tell people I hate Italian food, when the fact is, I really only hate what most Americans consider to be Italian food, like spaghetti with meatballs and marinara.

A recent assignment took me to Davio’s, a relatively new Northern Italian restaurant at Phipp’s Plaza. Like all Italian restaurants, there are pastas, but none of them with marinara. Instead of pizzas you’ll find Tuscan white bean and hand-rolled gnocchi with basil truffle oil.

This is the fourth Davio’s location in the U.S., the first opening in Boston in 1985. The company has grown slowly, taking its time to perfect the concept before branching out to different markets. White tablecloths, upholstered seating, and fat columns give the space a traditional fine dining feel. I ordered a bellini followed by an unusual selection of an off-dry riesling. Both were fantastic.

The menu reads like a study in decadence, from seared foie gras to lobster risotto, until you get to the section titled Marchi. This section is a brief list of Davio’s trademark Spring rolls which come in four flavors that mimic other dishes, for instance the Philly Cheese Steak Spring Roll. They even sell them wholesale to supermarkets. I don’t get it. It’s as out of place as pizza at a sushi bar. But we were obligated to try them, so we ordered the sampler. As expected, LC loved the crispy fried rolls, especially the Buffalo Chicken. I was not impressed.

In addition to the Spring rolls we ordered the steamed mussels to share. The aromatic broth, flavored with ginger, lemongrass and fresh basil had a little kick, but I found the shellfish to be on the small side. LC devoured them as I focused on my foie gras. Seared and paired with roasted Georgia peaches, I initially thought the kitchen had plated an enormous serving of foie gras with no peach because the port glaze made everything look the same. Even our server thought they had made a mistake and whisked the dish away for repair. Meanwhile, I requested some undressed field greens on the side, my favorite way to cut the richness of foie gras. Our server returned, explaining the peach was hidden beneath two lovely slices of the goose liver. I proceeded to cut a piece of each and brushed a few leaves of baby romaine through the port glaze. Heavenly.

That was just the appetizers. The next dish was ravioli stuffed with Maine lobster in a rich basil cream sauce. Pastas come in two sizes so we ordered the small bowl and treated it as a side to accompany an 8 oz. center cut filet mignon. I couldn’t pass up the pan roasted Brussels sprouts while LC had a hankerin’ for the green beans with crispy pancetta.

Our steak was kitchen split, each half (that looked to be around 6 oz. each rather than 4 oz.) individually seared to a perfect medium. Served with caramelized onions and two housemade sauces, horseradish cream and a citrus herb sauce called prezzemolata, it was the best steak both of us had eaten in years, perhaps ever! Each bite melted in our mouths, after which we exclaimed “Oh my God, this is amazing!” It was so incredibly delicious, no sauce was required, but the prezzemolata was terrific so I couldn’t resist dipping a few bites in. We savored every morsel.

Brussels sprouts were roasted until tender and tasty. Lots of porky pancetta punctuated the skinny, whole green beans. Despite its richness, we polished off the lobster ravioli and had the nerve to order dessert.

I was disappointed to discover this Italian restaurant did not serve gelato, so we opted for what seemed to be the lightest, a strawberry parfait with vanilla ice milk and lemon pound cake croutons. A textural delight, it would have been better without the hint of lemon, and with a dollop of whipped cream.

But why stop there? Our server, who’s timing was impeccable, suggested we take home a second dessert, the traditional Italian tiramisu. Sadly, it didn’t even make it to the refrigerator.

Certainly not inexpensive, Davio’s is the perfect choice for a special occassion or if your pockets are particularly deep. Do I like Italian food, you ask? If it’s Davio’s, I love it.

3500 Peachtree Road 404-844-4810

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

Tucked away on a quiet corner in Brookhaven, this restaurant’s name perfectly suits its atmosphere. It is indeed a haven from the manic city, a rustic space that invites conversation over a couple of glasses of wine from their thoughtfully selected list. A perfect date spot.

In the midst of a crazy week, a break from the madness is exactly what B and I needed, so I invited her to join me at Haven to sample some dishes for an article in an upcoming issue of BuckHaven Lifestyle Magazine. We were seated at a comfortable booth and began perusing the wine list, finally choosing their priciest red by the glass, the Laetitia Reserve Pinot Noir at $15.

So wrapped up in our conversation, it took some coaxing from our patient server to extract an order from us. B chose mussels in a smoked tomato chipotle broth to start, leaving only one unopened shell in the bowl. I went with the braised Georgia rabbit, its intense musky flavor enhanced by earthy morel mushrooms and the bright freshness of an herb salad.

The wine went down easily as we caught up on each other’s news, awaiting our entrees. B’s plump roasted Georges Bank scallops arrived atop creamy Vidalia onion grits with some creamed spinach on the side. Nice.

I, of course, ordered the duck leg confit. But not just any duck, it was from Joe Jurgielewicz. Having never heard of this purveyor, I googled it. Turns out Joe’s a veterinarian and takes pride in raising the healthiest and tastiest ducks available. Served with honey roasted turnips, braised greens and a little Vidalia onion puree, the leg and thigh boasted crispy skin and rich, oily meat….tasty indeed! Just wish there was more of the Vidalia puree.

B and I always have room for dessert. And more wine. We ordered two more glasses of the smooth and spicy pinot. For dessert, she tried the creme brulee, a lovely rendition of the classic French pudding. The pear rhubarb crisp caught my attention. For some reason I was expecting a tart, so I was somewhat disappointed when the cast iron dish arrived. More like a deep dish mini pie with a streusel topping, the big scoop of vanilla ice cream made this dessert a bit too rich for my taste.

When the stress of the city becomes overwhelming, take a Valium and head to Brookhaven, where the wine and the wabbit are wonderfully soothing.

1441 Dresden Drive 404-969-0700

On a recent weekend, LC and I revisited Fig Jam with a business client of his, determined not to over-order like we did on my birthday. We ate like it was our last meal!

Arriving before our dining companions, we took a seat at the bar and ordered two cocktails, the eponymous Fig Jam that we enjoyed on my birthday. As we sipped our drinks, JE and his girlfriend walked in. Joining us in trying the signature cocktail, the four of us moved three feet to a hightop adjacent to the bar.

We started the same way LC and I did before, with the mini cheddar cheese sandwich. Lightly grilled and cut into bite-size strips, it’s the apple chutney that elevates this everyday sandwich into an upscale appetizer.

Our table of four would have had a hard time devouring what we ordered on our first visit….seven dishes altogether. This time, we shared three more small plates, the apple curry chicken skewers with mango salsa and vegetable spring rolls, both of which were unremarkable. However, the mussels in coconut lemongrass curry broth were as fragrant and delicious as before.

A big bowl of ravioli florentine didn’t make the cut on my birthday, but we managed to split it four ways on this occassion. And thankfully so, it was decadently rich. Another round of drinks appeared.

We both settled on the same large plate, each couple sharing the duck confit with parsnips and a sweet smudge of cherry jus. Fig Jam does a great job with the duck, delivering a perfectly crisped skin and succulent meat.

By now, our plate count was up to seven, but it was quite manageable with four rather than two sharing everything. In fact, we even had room for dessert! Cheesecake for our guests and two scoops of fig vanilla ice cream for me and my sweetie.

This dinner took place a while back, likely at the tail end of their Winter menu. A quick check of their current menu online reveals numerous Springlike changes like a starter of quail with kimchee and cilantro and fried green tomatoes with frisee and chili oil. Guess it’s time for a third visit!

1745 Peachtree Street NE 404-724-9100

Gotta love a place with a name like Fig Jam. From the owners of Baraonda and Publik Draft House, this relatively new spot occupies the corner vacated by Baroni at Brookwood Station. This is where I celebrated my birthday….for the third time.

LC and I worked up our appetites early and couldn’t wait for our 8 o’clock reservation, instead arriving around 7:15 to find the place unusually quiet for a Saturday night. The space was warm and inviting as we settled into a private table in the back.

First things first….what to drink? A list of signature cocktails caught our attention. The Fig Jam made with vanilla infused organic vodka, fig preserve, lemon juice, maple syrup, and rhubarb bitters sounded irresistible. We also ordered the mini cheddar cheese sandwich, one of the nine small plates offered.

Served with an amazing apple chutney, we polished off the delectible little sammies lickety split, as well as our subtly sweet and deceptively strong cocktails. With no clear plan in mind, we moved on to one of the medium plates, mussles in coconut lemongrass curry broth.

When it comes to mussels, I’m spoiled. Noche used to have gigantic ones swimming in a very spicy chili broth with cilantro and hominy. These days, however, no one can hold a candle to chef Shane Devereux’ at Top Flr. Although their description is almost identicle to Fig Jam’s, Devereux adds a serious dose of heat. I request a spoon for the broth every time….seriously. So, although the mussels were very good indeed, the flavor of the broth at Fig Jam lacked the intensity that I love.

Enjoying grazing dish by dish, we decided on the lamb belly with bourbon maple sauce. Another medium plate, there was enough meat for two entrees, with pickled veggies providing a perfect contrast to the sweet glaze.

Having reviewed the menu prior to making the reservation, I was fixated on the duck confit entree. I know duck doesn’t make LC swoon, but he’s a good sport and will usually (and wisely) allow me to make the final decision where food is concerned. LC was, likewise, fixated on the flat breads. So, in an effort to compromise, we ordered both, despite the fact that we were already full. We also ordered two more of the Fig Jam cocktails.

The flatbread was literally half the size of the table and turned out to be the least impressive dish of the evening. It was like an enormous Saltine cracker topped with cubes of dry steak, a smattering of blue cheese, and not enough caramelized onions.

I was much more pleased with the duck confit, an appropriately crispy, fatty leg and thigh served over braised parsnips, with a drizzle of cherry au jus. Beets normally accompany the duck but I requested it without. As if that weren’t enough, we tried the Jefferson mac & cheese as a side, baked in a shallow dish with crunchy bread crumbs on top. Why Jefferson? I don’t know, but I do know that I would have enjoyed the duck and mac more if I had been hungry.

And what’s a birthday celebration without dessert! We barely made a dent in the bread pudding with raisins and cinnamon accented with a bourbon caramel sauce. It went home with us.

An abbreviated wine list shows depth and variety, with a nice selection by the glass. When you visit (as you should) just keep in the mind the portions are oversized. LC and I ordered enough for six and left in a food coma.

1745 Peachtree Street NE 404-724-9100

Intriguing reviews and rumors surrounded the opening of One Eared Stag, the neighborhood eatery by chef Robert Phalen located in the space that formerly housed Shaun’s….somewhat ironic as it was Doty who mentored the young chef prior to his opening of Holy Taco in East Atlanta.

Stag’s decor is mostly unchanged, save the multiple animal heads adorning the white-washed brick wall opposite the bar.

Atlantans have a hunger for new dining experiences, devouring animal parts once considered trash, like Phalen’s fried shrimp heads at One Eared Stag or his tacos filled with chicken hearts at Holy Taco.

It had been far too long since I broke bread with B. Having just returned from Mexico, the last few days had been a whirlwind of drama and I needed her sympathetic ear….or a valium drip. I wisely chose her ear, and the Stag’s ear.

I had to park a block away and walk in the pouring rain, but once inside, the fragrant aromas emanating from the open kitchen were immediately comforting. We were seated by the front window near the bar where the noise level was high, providing a welcome buffer to my cursing.

B ordered a glass of temperanillo, not the oh so predictable Stag’s Leap, and I stuck with the Guinness that had smoothed out my mood at home earlier. We had an unusually difficult time agreeing on dishes to share from the menu comprised of mostly small plates with a short selection of entrees. In the end, B landed on a dozen oysters to start. Sticking with the seafood theme, she ordered the fish stew as her entree. I would have liked to try Phalen’s foie gras but the accompanying pineapple turned me off, especially with its $21 price tag. Having been informed by our patient server Justin that the short rib was sold out, I opted for the mussels and Brussels.

Turns out breaking bread at One Eared Stag will set you back 50 cents. I can afford it but damn, really? Two kinds of oysters topped with bits of this and foam of that comprised B’s appetizer. I tried one and was unimpressed, however, she enjoyed the remaining eleven.

Quite some time passed before our entrees arrived. Her stew, topped with bright orange roe, was full of shrimp and fish. However, it was so hot that it burned her mouth. Even after twenty minutes, the temperature of the broth was scalding. Nonetheless, she liked the flavor of the tomato-based stew. My disdain for tomatoes with fish remained intact following a taste.

My serving of mussels was substantial, however lacking in broth. Our server requested extra broth which contained whole sprigs of thyme and several dried red hot chili peppers often found in Chinese food….the type they warn “vely hot, do not eat”. Guess what, I always eat ‘em! The broth was otherwise mild, flavored with bacon and leeks…good for dipping the grilled bread.

Brussels sprouts were unfortunately not roasted, but rather steamed, with the addition of bacon providing most of the flavor. Nevertheless, I would like to revisit the Stag, especially in the Spring when the secluded patio out back promises to be lovely.

1029 Edgewood Avenue 404-525-4479

Once again, I’m off to Mexico!

Wow! I can’t believe it’s been a week since me and B had dinner at El Farallon in Cabo San Lucas. Its spectacular setting overlooking the ocean along the cliffs of the Pedregal Mountains makes it one of the most romantic destinations I have ever visited. Too bad I wasn’t there with a hot man! Ladies, this is where you want to be when your guy asks you to marry him.

The Baja Peninsula is known for its abundance of fresh seafood. El Farallon brings in the catches of the day from the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez and displays them by the kitchen so diners can make their selections.

Having had enough tequila throughout the day to tranquilize a gang of lucha libres, we switched it up to champagne. Seated near the rocky cliff wall surrounded by the warm glow of candles, the weather was perfect. Then along came CG with a bottle of champagne in hand. He escorted us to see the “boat display” to choose our fish, but we both had lobster tunnelvision.

El Farallon has a set five course menu that begins with chips and guacamole made in a traditional molcajete, chunky and delicious. The next course was mussels in a tomato broth. Both B and I dislike tomato with fish so although the mussels were good, it was not my favorite dish. The guacamole was so good I requested a second helping.


A trio of appetizers were delivered. Seabean salad was rather forgettable (I, in fact, couldn’t remember it). Seabass ceviche was tasty but, again, had tomato in it which I found a little unusual. Crispy fried calamari was the winner of the three.

I don’t remember ever seeing a menu. This is unfortunate because having it in front of me now, I see we could have ordered the mixed grill of fish, which includes a lobster. Then we could have tried lots of different fish, but rather, we ordered two lobsters, each one the size of my head (too much of a good thing?)

For her sides, B chose roasted potatoes and grilled asparagus, which she said were very flavorful. My grilled corn was sweet and salty with a satisfying toothesome quality….amazing. I also tried the cilantro rice merely because it had the word “cilantro” in it. Our lobsters were grilled and succulent served with a selection of sauces. B asked for drawn butter that we both dipped into. One of the sauces, most likely the chile ajo, was good and spicy.

There were two choices for dessert and I believe I chose the arroz con leche, but it never arrived. The bill did, however, with each lobster having a $20 upcharge beyond the $80 prix fixe. Thanks for the heads up, Senor Server.

Despite the misunderstandings and missed desserts, it was still an unforgettable meal, at an unforgettable place.

During her visit, AD and I packed a year’s worth of drama in a week. Before taking her to the airport, we decided to find a restaurant nearby with a patio so we could enjoy the sunny day with a touch of Fall in the air, and enjoy a casual lunch while rehashing the events of her visit.

We decided on Cafe 640, formerly Cafe di Sol, who’s quaint patio faces a colorful section of N. Highland Avenue in the Poncey Highlands. The trees, flowers and tiny lights strung all around make guests feel like they are in a small town, but the sirens and occassional passing vagrant remind them otherwise! We chose one of the small tables near the street with the uncomfortable wooden slat chairs.

Should we have wine? Silly question. A glass of riesling for me, pinot noir for her. The three most expensive appetizers ($29 all together) sounded like an awesome clusterf*ck of flavor, perfect for sharing.

Delivered first were the panko crusted fried green tomatoes with New Orleans style BBQ shrimp. You know how I feel about fried green tomatoes. I rarely have a positive reaction to them, but often order them just to see how badly the kitchen can screw ‘em up. Of course the tomatoes were too heavily breaded, but they were not greasy. We could actually taste the tartness of the tomatoes, which was a great match to the sweet, plump shrimp.

A huge bowl of mussels and leeks in a red curry broth came out along with the “ropa vieja”, a dish of slow braised shredded flank steak on tortilla chips, then topped with a little melted aged white cheddar, fresh jalapeno slices, and drizzled with cilantro sour cream. In effect, Spanish nachos. Having just spent her last month abroad in San Sabastian, AD was interested to see how authentic this dish would taste.

The mussels were well-prepared, although I couldn’t detect much curry in the broth. That didn’t stop me from sopping up every last drop with the grilled slices of bread that were served with them.

In between slurping up shellfish, we tried the tortillas, each topped with copious amounts of tender shredded beef. The fresh, not pickled, jalapenos were fiery hot. We both loved it!

Not so pleased with the dryness of my riesling, I chose a malbec for my second glass, as did AD.

We enjoyed our lunch so much that I suggested LC and I dine there for an impromptu dinner the following week. Naturally, we had to order the ropa vieja. I knew LC would love the spicy nachos! To mix it up a bit we tried a house salad with a fantastic housemade balsamic, a stack of perfectly crispy onion rings, and a side of truffle mac ‘n’ cheese, bubbly and browned on top. A martini and a Guinness draft washed it all down.

But LC was still hungry, so we order the panna cotta to go. Needless to say, it didn’t even make it to the car. Sublime, light, and topped with fresh blueberries, we polished off the dessert in seconds.

640 N. Highland Avenue 404-724-0711

Dear HotDish readers, I have been a slacker with the blog! I have a new job at Cooper Global Transportation (like us on Facebook!) and have been travelling a lot, too. So please forgive me as I re-post a few old favorites as B and I are headed to the Hangout!
Hospitality. That is the word LC used to describe Goin’ Coastal. Sure, the watermelon jalapeno margaritas and cornbread pudding are winners, but it’s the sincere warmth of the staff that keeps us goin’ back.

After our disappointing experience at Pure, we headed back towards the Virginia Highlands. Where to go? Aha! We simultaneously said “Goin’ Coastal!” for their watermelon jalapeno margaritas and a snack since we only had an appetizer before fleeing Pure.

Even though it was after 9pm, practically every table was occupied. We chose seats at the bar, closer to the tequila! The bartender introduced himself, Webster I believe, and proceeded to make us doubles, with salt.

Made with fresh watermelon juice, lime juice, and jalapeno infused simple syrup, these margaritas are sweet, salty, and spicy all at once. However, we found this batch to be more sweet, less spicy, probably due to the variation in heat of the jalapenos. No worries, Webster added some fresh jalapenos which corrected the imbalance.

Zach Kell, one of the owners, was at the pass expediting orders, laughing and chatting with the cooks. Everyone was relaxed, things were running smoothly. We waved. He came over to say hello, remembering us from our visits and having just run into him at Aqua Vino the week before.

On to some food, LC suggested crab legs. Great idea! They came with two sides so I ordered the jalapeno cornbread pudding, of course. We chose corn on the cob for our second side.

Zach placed a huge platter on the bar, full of steamed crab legs with drawn butter and our sides. I dug into the creamy cornbread pudding as LC started crackin’ some legs. Few things can beat the satisfaction of pulling out the luscious crab meat all in one piece. Corn on the cob was buttery sweet.

Just then a server came up to the bar. It was April who waited on us on our first visit months ago. Best part? She remembered us, and even more shocking, I remembered her name!

As we continued to enjoy our meal and margaritas, Zach brought over a taste of the low country bouillabaisse, an updated version from my first tasting. I had ordered it despite its tomato-based broth, but it turned out the bigger problem was the smallish overcooked shrimp. The new version had a more intense tomato flavor but the shrimp were definitely better, plump and perfectly cooked.

Webster topped off our giant margaritas and we wiped off our hands with their nifty just-add-water towelettes. Once again, Goin’ Coastal was the perfect neighborhood spot….it’s all about the hospitality!

1021 Virginia Avenue 404-941-9117