Hot Dish Review

Grab your Lederhosen….it’s that time of year again!

Last weekend’s amazing weather provided the perfect backdrop for a visit to Helen, the faux Bavarian village near Dahlonega that gives locals a taste of Germany, in a redneck sort of way.

Their Oktoberfest celebration is actually rather fun. Me, LC and his awesome parents hit the road to check out the Festhalle, dance the polka, and drink a lot of beer!

Since my parents are part-time residents of Helen, it is a frequent destination for me. However, this was their first visit to the quaint and somewhat cheesy North Georgia town. We started off with lunch at Old Heidelberg. My Mom joined us.

We chose a table on the tiny balcony, me and Mom’s new favorite spot. Ice cold beers, Warsteiner draft for me, cooled us off in the blazing Oktober sun. An appetizer described as sauerkraut and bacon rolled in dough sounded both weird and delicious. And it was.

Mom ordered her usual goulash soup while the rest of us split various kinds of wurst. LC and I tried the trio which included bauernwurst, bratwurst, and knockwurst. Served with sauerkraut and whipped potatoes with gravy it was a hearty portion, certainly enough for two.

Old Heidelberg serves some of the best German fare in Helen. A note of trivia: the restaurant is the most photographed building in Georgia. Another beer to wash it down and we were ready to walk around town and see the sights on our way to the Festhalle.

LC’s parents are really cool and laid back. His Dad, KC, shares my birthday so that gives him an automatic advantage where I’m concerned. And his Mom, FC, must be a saint to put up with them both.

At the Festhalle we ordered a pitcher of beer and the parents picked up three bags of candied beer nuts somewhere when we weren’t looking. Soon they were up on the dancefloor doing the polka!

On the drive back to Atlanta we stopped at one of the many farmer’s stands, this one specializing in all kinds of sauces, jams, and condiments….they had a whole room of them. We got some hot boiled peanuts to snack on.

There are only two weeks left of Oktoberfest. This weekend will most likely be the busiest, as the leaves finally begin to change to Fall hues. The weather promises to be stunning once again so hop in the car and head North to enjoy beer and brats in Helen!

While I was in Germany, I thought I would rerun a few posts on Helen, North Georgia’s faux Bavarian village! Prost!
This restaurant is an old standby in Helen. I’ve eaten there dozens of times….with my Mom, with friends, take-out. Only today did I realize it is not Old Bavarian Inn, but rather Old Bavaria Inn. Robert, the latest owner, has maintained the highest standards of food quality. I think it’s the best German restaurant in Helen proper!

ST and I drove up to my parents’ place in Helen last weekend to continue his birthday celebration. We dined at Old Bavaria Inn Saturday night on authentic German fare. It had been a while since I had ribchen (smoked pork chops) und sauerkraut. I always loved it when my Mom made it when I was a kid.

I’ve often ordered the spaetzle with cream sauce and ham with a bratwurst for lunch. On this visit I couldn’t pass up this super fatty spaetzle appetizer. Rich, rich, rich.

Old Bavaria Inn offers all of your German favorites from Weiner schnitzel to sauerbraten. I opted for the schlachtplatte (meat plate)…..a selection of bratwurst, knockwurst, and ribchen served with red cabbage, sauerkraut and potato salad. ST ordered the rinder rouladen, thin beef filets rolled and stuffed with pickled veggies and served with red cabbage and spaetzle. Both entrees should come with a side of Gas X too!

The least authentic thing they serve is the potato salad. Not the traditional German style that is served warm, their version is decidedly American made with red skin-on potatoes and served chilled.

We washed it down with lots of beer….Warsteiner, Erdinger, Paulaner, anything that ended in -er.

Robert brought out a complimentary slice of apple strudel for ST’s birthday. They were out of the amazing hazelnut torte that me and my Mom always order….it is not to be missed!

We were stuffed! It was nice to be in Helen again.

My first visit to The Porter last August was short and sweet, so I was excited to return on Friday, not only for the tremendous beer selection but for Nick Rutherford’s way-better-than-bar-food menu.

And who better to delve into The Porter’s lengthy beer list with than AM. He is really into specialty beers, even brewing his own. We met at the bar where I started with a tasting of three dark beers available on draught, the Weyerbacher Fifteen, Southern Tier JahVah, and Great Divide Claymore Scotch. Of the three, I liked the Fifteen the best, but honestly, I didn’t love any of them. I did, however, love the way they were served, in three little jars set in a wooden tray.

With 29 beers on draught, most of them unfamiliar, choosing is difficult. Eight pages of bottled beer makes ordering feel like studying, although it is very helpful to have a flavor description below each selection. I zeroed in on the Delirium Nocturnum, described as dark and delicious, black raisins, dried figs. AM agreed it was a good choice for me.

The only food I had tried on my first visit was the mac ‘n’ cheese and goat cheese fritters, both amazing. This time AM and I started off with the goat cheese fritters, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with black pepper, creamy and delicious.

AM got a Caracole Ambree, a Belgian strong ale with hints of caramel spice, cinnamon, and apple. In the mood for a stout, I ordered a Ten Fidy, described as “love in a can” with flavors of chocolate, coffee, leather and caramel. Now we’re talkin’.

More food was in order so we shared the house-made bratwurst and sauerkraut. Organic Fuji apples were listed as well but I failed to find any hint of them on the plate. The sausages were perfectly seasoned and delicious with the classic kraut pairing.

We moved on to Nostradamus, Podge Belgian Imperial, Koningshoeven Triple, and more. I lost track to say the least.

Singer, sausage businessman Jimmy Dean dies at 81

June 13, 2010, 10:16 PM EST

RICHMOND, Va. (AP) — Jimmy Dean, a country music legend for his smash hit about a workingman hero, “Big Bad John,” and an entrepreneur known for his sausage brand, died on Sunday. He was 81.

His wife, Donna Meade Dean, said her husband died at their Henrico County, Va., home.

She told The Associated Press that he had some health problems but was still functioning well, so his death came as a shock. She said he was eating in front of the television. She left the room for a time and came back and he was unresponsive. She said he was pronounced dead at 7:54 p.m.

“He was amazing,” she said. “He had a lot of talents.”

Born in 1928, Dean was raised in poverty in Plainview, Texas, and dropped out of high school after the ninth grade. He went on to a successful entertainment career in the 1950s and ’60s that included the nationally televised “The Jimmy Dean Show.”

In 1969, Dean went into the sausage business, starting the Jimmy Dean Meat Co. in his hometown. He sold the company to Sara Lee Corp. in 1984.

VACATION RE-RUN #3….still addicted to these. Quick breakfast for those mornings when you’ve got something better to do in bed than out of it.

I was amazed to discover Jimmy Dean makes a variety of healthy breakfast sandwiches. Always seeking convenient options for those early mornings when I’d rather sleep than scramble eggs, it’s great to grab a sandwich from the freezer and pop it in the microwave. A good alternative for my man too, when he’s not in the mood for Cheerios.

Easy, yes. But usually not so healthy. Jimmy Dean’s sandwiches, called D-Lights (seriously) are light in calories, ranging from 230 for the Canadian bacon, egg white, and cheese on a whole wheat English muffin to 290 for the turkey sausage, egg white, and cheese on a croissant. They are low-fat, high fiber, with a good carb/protein ratio, and also contain relatively few naughty ingredients like MSG and preservatives.

I’ve tried them all and my favorite is the sausage, egg white, and cheese on a whole wheat English muffin, which I had for breakfast this morning. Trick is to nuke it on defrost per the directions, then separate the components of the sandwich, toasting the muffin separately while heating the fillings in the microwave (see nifty photo). Then just put it together!

Not gourmet…..kinda like McDonald’s McMuffins, just healthier and you can make ‘em in your PJ’s. Try them and let me know what you think!

Hello again, old friend! We sure did miss you, with your elegant good looks and playful staff. B and I finally made a long-overdue appearance at our old haunt, the Bar at Livingston.

A couple of glasses of A to Z’s Night and Day got us off to a lively start. Sous chef Zeb came over and said hello. He would send out a couple of dishes for us to try. Lovely! I was craving the short rib ravioli, but alas, it was gone from the menu.

Duck sausage accompanied by seared foie gras, which I’m assuming was also duck, came with cubes of fennel dressed in a slightly sweet black pepper gastrique rather than the standard toast and marmalade that often show up with foie gras. Zeb Stevenson, Mennie’s sous chef, has become bored with that presentation (and so have I). There was just enough sweetness to pair well with the rich meats without being cloying. For sausage and foie gras, the dish was surprisingly light.

A crispy cube of pork belly sat upon a puree of apricot and was served with two big Spring pea raviolis topped with chopped peanuts for crunch. We really liked this starter but would have liked it more had we not been spoiled by the short rib raviolis on prior visits. As we told Zeb over more wine on the patio, that dish was orgasmic! We begged him to put it back on the menu….please.

B and I lingered for a while, having an entirely inappropriate and entertaining conversation with Zeb. We’ll be back for another visit soon to reclaim our regular spots at the bar!

659 Peachtree Street @ The Georgian Terrace 404-897-5000

Located on Decatur’s historic square, this restaurant is the latest from the Castellucci family that owns Sugo. An extensive selection of Spanish inspired tapas and plates are offered. Me and ST sampled our way through the menu, essentially eating like pigs, starting with charcuterie, jamon Iberico, the expensive Iberian ham and the restaurant’s namesake.

Our server Mary Quinn suggested a creamy sheep’s milk Spanish cheese called camedeoveja. Spread on the crispy toasted bread, it was delectable. Cheese and ham were served on wood cutting boards with mustard and tiny green olives.

The space is warm, furnished in dark wood, exposed brick, and deep red velvet curtains. Lighting is soft and flattering, perfect for a romantic evening with ST.

Chef Chad Crete was very gracious, bringing us a few of the bacon wrapped dates stuffed with manchego cheese and walnuts, resting in a romesco sauce. OMG. I could eat fifty of those!

There were so many amazing sounding dishes on the menu, like the tocino con manzana….slow braised pork belly with a salad of Granny Smith apples and candied walnuts dressed with a drizzle of apple cider reduction. Fatty crispy pork belly was yummy but I detected a hint of something not yummy….the tiny chiffonade of green on the apple salad, was it mint? I hate mint.

Which brings me to the sangria. The best in town is at Pura Vida, hands down. Still. I ordered the bottomless glass at The Iberian Pig for $21. Served in pint glasses, I suspect there is more juice than rum or wine. What I love about Pura Vida’s sangria is that it has chunks of fruit soaked in rum. Eat them and you will feel it! Sangria at Pura Vida is not for pussies.

While sipping the sangria at The Iberian Pig I once again detected a hint of flavor that was familiar yet somehow just plain wrong. Then I saw it….a slice of cucumber! Cucumber in sangria? Don’t ask me. ST ordered the “pretty darn good” red wine and it was, in fact, pretty darn good….2004 Marco Real Garnacha Navarra from Spain.

Next up on our trail of tapas was the BBQ octopus and the huevos con trufa. Both recommended by a friend of MN. The best part of the octopus was the stringy pork belly underneath. For some reason I thought BBQ meant grilled. No, it means with BBQ sauce, which I didn’t really care for. It was served with crunchy potatoes that I did not eat lest they take up space in my stomach where I could put something delicious, like more pork.

Huevos con trufa is a huge chunk of slow roasted pork with rustic toasted bread topped with a poached egg and black truffles. Remember, these are tapas folks. But the Castelluccis are known for ample portions. The pork was fork tender, ridiculously good. Break the egg yolk and dip the crusty bread in it, making sure to pick up a bit of truffle which was made into a tapenade. Decadent, rich, hell yeah!

Chad delivered another delicious surprise, their albondigas. Wild boar sausage meatballs stuffed with piquillo peppers, dates, and roasted tomatoes, finished with pimento creme and oyster mushrooms. I would not have ordered this but it was great, the flavorful meat pairing perfectly with the sweetness of the dates and the earthiness of the sauce.

Jesus Christ! An enormous serving of baked manchego mac ‘n’ cheese came out and a sampler of three sausages….lamb with macerated cherries, fennel sausage with caramelized onions, and chorizo with moscatel wine reduction and romesco, which was the standout among the trio. We couldn’t polish off all of them so they went in a recycled to-go container along with one of the two meatballs.

After all of those entree-sized tapas we had an actual entree coming, the cabrito carbonara; slow roasted goat with chittara pasta tossed in a carbonara sauce with Benton’s bacon, cream and topped with yet another poached egg. Mary Quinn instructed us to break the egg and mix in the yolk to complete the sauce. I found the pasta a bit too al dente, however the meat was succulent, the flavor of the dish was outstanding.

By now I was on my fourth glass of sangria. Despite the cucumber, I didn’t seem to have a problem getting my money’s worth out of the bottomless glass.

A selection of gelatos for dessert….the best was the fig and cherry, followed by the pistachio and the dulce de leche. I found the texture to be pretty authentic as far as gelato goes, the dulce de leche a bit too sweet.

We gave our leftovers to the “homeless” kids outside. They said they were hungry. I guess their Mothers in their million dollar mansions don’t really cook. Poor things.

Next time I will try one of the flatbreads. A neighboring table had one and it looked extra thin, crispy, and drool-worthy. The food isn’t authentic Spanish, however, having recently visited Spain….Barcelona and Mallorca…..I found these dishes more to my liking, perhaps because they were not so simple like in Spain. Regardless, I liked this place with its rich sauces, overdone flavor combos, and Italian riffs mixed with Spanish inspiration. It worked for me!

121 Sycamore Street, Decatur 404-371-8800 www.iberianpigatl.com

AD is prepared to travel the world, staying mostly in youth hostels and carrying a light load in her backpack. I, on the other hand, have never stayed at a youth hostel. Gansevoort or The Delano in South Beach is more my speed. But what the hell, I am hostile at times, so I decided to rough it with her in Rio de Janeiro. (Check out her blog, lots of great photos!)

I discovered staying at Cidade Maravilhosa Hostel is the closest thing to camping without a tent. We did have AC, but only from about 8pm to 10am. Believe it or not the bed was comfy….I slept like a baby every night.

Breakfast was provided in a common room with a festively printed plastic tablecloth. Bread, crackers, cheese, ham, coffee were always out as well as various fruits like watermelon, apples, and bananas. There was often a semi-sweet bread, almost like cake, that I would eat a small square of with a traditional Brazilian chocolate goo called brigadeiros, made of condensed milk, cocoa, and sugar. Condensed milk, we discovered is a common ingredient in Brazil.

On the second morning I found the mini baguettes in a basket under the little buns. It became habit for AD and I to steal a couple of them each day, along with apples and bananas for (free) lunch on the go! My best discovery, however, was the panini press. One of the kitchen/cleaning ladies had made a panini that second morning. Too late for me that day but on the third morning I found the press and made a ham and cheese panini with a mini baguette. With coffee, fruit, and a sweet pastry, I had my daily routine, after which me and AD were off on the adventure of the day….Carnival, Ipanema beach, the botanical gardens, Cristo Redentor, the tiled steps and tram at Lapa, the beach at Leblon.

We became scavengers. We rode the subway and the bus. I washed my hair once that week, never put on make-up, and wore only swimsuits and cover-ups every day (dude, it was 95 degrees!). The shower in our room was scalding hot so we showered in our swimsuits on the common deck, the scene of the Fat Tuesday cookout.

Ricardo, who runs the hostel, is a big man. The entire staff was so helpful and welcoming. They invited us to the cookout, just $20 Reals (about ten bucks US) for unlimited steak, sausage, salad, rice, salsa, and caipirinhas. Everyone we met was from a different country. Our roommates, A and S were from New Zealand. T from Australia shared a room with M from Morocco. France, Israel, Germany, England, Denmark….people from all over the world staying together. It was really an incredible experience.

Grilled steaks were cut up and served as appetizers. There was lots of meat, some well-done and tough, others medium rare and tender. I saw the kitchen/cleaning ladies making the salsa downstairs earlier. It was simple Brazilian fare. Authentic.

The best part of the cookout was when Ricardo ran out of limes for caipirinhas. He sent a kid that worked there to get more but the store was out so he bought black grapes instead. Uva caipirinhas! I watched as he crushed the grapes then added condensed milk, sugar, and cachaca to the shaker. I can’t wait to recreate them at home!

It wasn’t a luxury trip, it was an adventure. I wouldn’t change one sweaty, dirty minute! Thanks AD.