Hot Dish Review

A lovely dinner….
Pour a glass of wine, sit back and relax folks….this is gonna take a while. Nine courses with wine pairings plus a couple of “gifts from the chef” spanned a solid four hours.

Finding the Quinones Room is somewhat of a treasure hunt….BB and I followed the signs, walked through the breezeway, and down the stairs to the door with the big Q. Neutral curtains parted to reveal an elegant seating area furnished in shades of chocolate and cream. The intimate dining room is to the right with only ten tables covered in white linens. Antique mirrors, Venetian glass chandeliers, and lacquered wood frame chairs with a vintage patina lent a quiet air of Southern moneyed aristocracy.

At first, the service seemed too serious for my taste. There was a selection of water and the delivery of four mini cheese bread sticks before our server, Rafael, introduced himself in a barely audible hush. We would be having the prix fixe menu with the wine pairings….a multi-course marathon that began with a kir royale.

Bread service arrived on a wooden skewer. Various sizes and kinds of bread, from sourdough to onion, complimented by soft, sweet cream butter.

Two mini cheese gougeres were devoured tout de suite, as well as a shot of celery root soup with red onion jam, both gifts from Chef de Cuisine David A. Carson. Little bites that packed big flavor.

Krug Grand Cuvee champagne was poured in advance of our first course. I knew it would be a crudo, something ultra-light. Atlantic blue fin tuna, sashimi style, and Kumamoto oysters were paired with tiny cubes of Asian pear, slivers of radish, the bowl decorated with droplets of shoyu, a type of soy sauce. This would be the only dish I didn’t really enjoy.

For lack of a better monicker, the “drink boy” came by with a 2005 sauternes for our next dish, a foie gras terrine. I commented to BB that I usually prefer foie gras seared. I also noted something peculiar….the drink boy once again short-poured my wine. Perhaps that is a standard practice in fine dining? To pour an almost imperceptibly short glass for the lady at the table.

A square plate came out with a square of the foie gras terrine, accompanied by three, questionably four, preparations of Fuyu persimmon and a little mound of spiced cocoa nibs. There was a persimmon puree, a dollop of persimmon preserves, and a slice of candied persimmon. I believe the streak of orange-y powder along the side was freeze-dried persimmon, but I could be wrong. Each little bite of the decadent foie gras was immaculate, with a smudge of sweet persimmon. What could make it even better you ask? Four baby popovers made with a mild cheese and the slightest hint of sweetness. Heaven.

A row of tiny Nantucket Bay scallops sat upon a cauliflower puree, each one topped with black pearls of caviar. Sauvignon blanc, fresh with hints of grapefruit, paired nicely. Rafael had loosened up as I quizzed him about his former employment. Turns out he has always worked for Quatrano and Harrison, the pair that own Baccanalia, Floataway, Abbattoir, and Star Provisions.

Loup de mer, a simple white fish, was made stunning with its toppings of earthy black trumpet mushrooms and baby potato chips made with fingerlings, all resting on a bed of melted Spring onions. Chardonnay was the obvious choice for wine.

Now things would take a turn for the rich, heavy, dark. Drink boy poured glasses of a 2007 pinot noir from Willamette Valley as the dance of service continued with unwavering steadiness. Truffled cabbage and Jerusalem artichoke provided the creamy base for a chunk of braised veal cheek, so tender it fell apart at the mere sight of my fork. But first BB and I sliced into the crispy veal sweetbreads that crowned the meat, lightly fried in a coating with a hint of nutmeg. He loves sweetbreads. If they were always this good and tender, I can see why. Although small, the braised veal was filling, containing quite a bit of fat. It was a very rich dish.

The menu listed loin of loin next. Huh? We chuckled…..was it loin of lion? Hilarious. Turns out it was venison. Louis M. Martini Reserve cabernet sauvignon was poured….still short. Glazed young vegetables like Brussels sprouts, carrots, and beets were scattered beneath two thick slices of roasted venison, cooked perfectly medium rare. Unlike the veal, there was not a speck of fat, yet the dense meat was succulent and smooth, the outside of the roast coated with a spice rub containing a hint of clove. A dollop of caramelized onion stole the show…I savored every sweet bit of it.

On to the cheese course, a segue into dessert. Cumberland, a medium bodied cheese with little holes, reminded me of fontina. It was paired with Ellijay apples, both preserved and cubed, and young arugula.

Time for dessert wine, what appeared to be a Spanish tawney. Our first dessert (yes, there were two!) was a glass cup layered with cranberries, brown sugar streusel, then toasted meringue, providing intense tanginess, crunchy sweetness, and fluffy chewiness, a crazy combo of textures.

Our final course was two dense cubes of Valrhona chocolate ganache with a small scoop of frozen chocolate custard on the side. The best part of the dessert was the thickened sweet potato puree, sprinkled with crispy chocolate nuggets.

Quinones Room lived up to the hype, the seamless execution a study in precision, both in service and in the food itself. Was it the best meal I’ve ever had? Quite possibly.

1198 Howell Mill Road 404-365-0410

A holiday rerun for your enjoyment (or disappointment, whatever the case may be):
Coming off a six year media love-fest, the guys at Muss & Turner’s, Todd Mussman and Ryan Turner, expanded to Joel’s former space, calling it Local Three. The third partner is chef Chris Hall, a self-taught cook and Atlanta native.

First, I must tell you the directions on their website are completely confusing. I was pretty sure I knew how to get there off I-75, remembering my two visits to Joel years ago. But admittedly, I have a condition I call “direction dyslexia”, so I can’t trust my instincts where directions are concerned. B was meeting me there and helped me get to the parking garage, along with a security officer. Once at the right building, we still had a hard time finding the restaurant. It was a little frustrating.

All the frustration melted away as soon as we walked into the warm and inviting space. There was no hint of its former stuffy self. Taupe and deep purple walls are a soothing backdrop to the rustic wood furnishings, a trio of pig paintings, a velvet Elvis, and soft, flattering lighting. It is gorgeous.

The trio’s sense of humor is immediately evident, not only in the kitschy decor but in the hilarious menu descriptions, like the “chicken liver mousse a.k.a. meat butter”. I love it that they don’t take themselves, or the food, too seriously.

Like at M & T’s, these boys use as much locally sourced produce and meat as possible. From the design of the space to the menu, it’s as if Abattoir and Miller Union had a precocious child. You will notice that every price on the drink menu ends in a “3″.

B and I were excited about our dining experience, having heard only good things about Local Three. We wanted to start off with a glass of red wine, both of us choosing the Guenoc Victorian Claret, described as “a Big One”…..no surprise there!

On to appetizers, we tried a couple of cheeses and two selections of charcuterie because they were made in-house by Mussman and listed under the heading “Notorious P.I.G.”. Gotta love it. Served with pear compote, honey, and crisp flatbread, I liked the presentation, and it was just perfect with the wine.

With the current battle of the Brussels sprouts in full swing, we ordered their crispy Brussels, listed under “snacks”. Stay tuned for a separate post on those.

B became fixated by the menu’s section called “Today” featuring items that are limited in quantity. In particular, she had her heart set on the salad of Hammock Hollow Farms baby Spring lettuce, radish, Blue cheese, and herb croutons. It didn’t excite me, but the salad of Winter greens on the regular “Appetizers” section certainly did. I make my own Winter greens salad so I was curious to see how Local Three’s version would compare.

A compilaton of frissee, dried apricots, cherries, raisins, toasted walnuts, and blue cheese, it was not as good as it sounded due to the salty, lackluster dressing. My salad kicks their salad’s ass. B’s greens also suffered under a over-salted dressing she described as juvenile. Both servings were large enough to share.

For soups we again chose one from “Today”, an irresistible dish called “Hot Crab on Crab Action”, Charleston she-crab soup topped with Alaskan King crab claws. If you are unfamiliar with she-crab soup, it is made with the roe from the female crab (hense she-crab), cream and sherry. The soup is usually rich and creamy but I found this version to be somewhat lighter with an abundance of crab meat, both in the soup and on top. I thought it was very good but B was not impressed.

We also ordered a soup from “Appetizers”, the creamy sweet potato soup, a disappointing puree that B compared to baby food. The smoked bacon, peanuts, and scallions on top did little to salvage it.

B tried the Chesapeake Bay wild striped bass for her entree, while I went with the grilled Cervena venison. Her fish, served with honey roasted turnips, rutabega, escarole, lemon, and dates, hit all the right notes. It was a fantastic dish.

I ordered my venison medium-rare. With black pepper spaetzle, spring Vidalia onion and huckleberry jus, it was a hearty plate. My meat was, unfortunately, on the rare side, and not as tender as one would wish for. A solid Winter dish.

Chef Hall stopped by inquiring about our meal. He’s a big dude. I’m not sure if he knew we were food writers but chances are, he would have visited either way.

B and I rarely skip dessert, this time sharing the pecan pie. My first impression was that it was more crust than filling. A few nibbles of it with the vanilla ice cream on top was more than enough sugar.

I wanted to love it, I wanted the three local pigs to wow us. No doubt, I will try Local Three again, if not only for its owners’ sense of humor and commitment to quality. To quote the menu “you can’t argue with delicious”.

But you can argue with mediocre.

3290 Northside Parkway NW 404-968-2700

Is it time for soup yet? I think it is….

This recipe is courtesy of The Rachael Ray Show. I love the toothsome quality of barley, and paired with pancetta….well, I just had to give it a try! You can access the original recipe video that offers some variations via the link above or follow mine below:

MUSHROOM BARLEY SOUP

1 oz. dried porcini mushrooms
1 quart low sodium chicken stock
3 cups water
1/4 C. EVOO
1/3 lb. thick cut pancetta, diced
3/4 lb. cremini mushroom caps, cleaned and sliced
1 bay leaf
2 leeks, washed, trimmed, sliced
4 cloves garlic, grated
3 tblsp. fresh sage, very thinly sliced
2 sprigs rosemary, finely chopped
1 15 oz. can diced, fire roasted tomatoes
1 cup uncooked pearl barley
1 bunch kale, leaves thinly chopped
salt & pepper

Simmer dried porcini mushrooms in the water and stock. Meanwhile crisp the pancetta in the olive oil over medium heat, about 3 minutes. Add the cremini mushrooms and bay leaf and cook 10-12 minutes. Next, add the leeks and garlic and continue cooking 5 minutes. Add sage, rosemary and tomatoes.

Remove the softened porcini mushrooms from the stock and chop. Add them along with their cooking liquids to the soup pot taking care to leave behind any grit from the mushrooms. Stir in the barley and simmer for about 45 minutes, until the barley is tender. Add the kale, allowing it to wilt.

Makes 4 servings.

LG joined me for this impromptu hearty soup dinner, perfect for a winter evening! I served it with some toasted country sourdough from Bakeshop.

A week before AD’s visit, I ran across a coupon for Agave, one of her favorite restaurants in Atlanta, and one that I’ve often mentioned to LC, but never visited with him. It was a sign. Now was my chance to revisit this Southwestern staple.

AD arrived with her former colleague DR, finding us already seated at a a table on the secondary patio. Chips and salsa were delivered quickly, but subsequent drink service was much too slow for folks craving tequila. LC and I tried the jalapeno skinny margarita, while they went with the regular variety.

LC and I prefer restaurants that aren’t shy about heat. Don’t you just hate it when a dish is described as “spicy” and it comes out bland? Or when you ask if it is spicy and the server assumes that is a bad thing and says something like “oh no, it’s not very spicy”. I always respond with “that’s too bad, I would have ordered it”. As delicious as Agave’s food usually is, I warned LC of Agave’s somewhat wimpy reputation in the spice department.

Traditionally, AD has always ordered the spring rolls to start and I had to have some guacamole. DR ordered ceviche that was beautifully presented in a martini glass, while LC was intent on trying the New Mexico hatch green chile stew.

The spring rolls, made with shrimp, cabbage, serranos, and roasted poblanos, are a crispy sweet treat, but I was truly impressed with the stew, thick with potatoes, onions, corn and tender chunks of beef….and it was spicy!

Every time I’ve eaten at Agave I leave stuffed. Too stuffed. Once, AD and I shared the spring rolls and a fish entree and we still had to be carried out on a stretcher. So on this visit I opted for an appetizer of grilled beef and shrimp. LC ordered the lone item that I wouldn’t even taste….meatloaf, while AD stuck to her favorite fried chicken. We got an additional side of poblano grits for sharing.

My dish was pleasingly petite, with thin slices of medium rare tenderloin and plump grilled shrimp. It was the huge dish of fiery grits that was my downfall. Ironically, AD’s chicken wasn’t as spicy as it had been in the past. LC enjoyed his entree and I was so engrossed with the grits that I don’t even remember what DR ordered.

Room for dessert? No way, Jose’!

242 Boulevard SE 404-588-0006

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!

This is my Summer for roadtrips. From Orlando to Louisville to Pigeon Forge, we’ve put some serious miles on the Hotdishmobile, making several interesting stops along the way. One such stop was in Knoxville, driving back from Dollywood.

LC had lived there briefly and was familiar with the city, especially the area around the University of Tennessee, who’s campus is near the river. Although he had not been there in years, he still recalled a great restaurant along the boardwalk called Calhoun’s, so we exited the highway and made our way toward the water.

Finding the restaurant on the Tennessee River only took about 15 minutes. We made our way to the spacious patio and ordered margaritas made with fresh lime (no sour), and a few appetizers to share. Time was tight since we had to get back on the road to Atlanta. Luckily, service was swift so we had a smorgasbord of snacks lickity split. And I do mean lickity. Calhoun’s specialty is ribs, so LC ordered their hickory smoked “ribatizer” with crispy fries, all finger-lickin’ good.

Our weird combo also included a skewer of decent char-grilled shrimp, a gooey side of mac ‘n’ cheese, a rich dish called spinach Maria, and a bowl of Calhoun’s signature white chili made with chicken, white beans, cilantro, and topped with crispy tortilla strips. The chili was good but I would have loved it if it had some heat.

We cleaned our plates and hit the road for a few more hours of driving bliss.

400 Neyland Drive, Knoxville 865-673-3355

It was Memorial Day and we were all exhausted from days of heat on Lake Lanier, frolicking on floats, racing on wave runners, and eating lots of burgers and hot dogs.

We were all ready to cool off with some margaritas and Mexican, but where? LC’s parents suggested El Porton, their neighborhood favorite.

They had to put two tables together to accomodate our large group, so we were seated in the back that was devoid of the festive decor found in the rest of the space. LC’s Mom is a Spanish teacher and told us that El Porton means “very big door”. Perhaps they imagined their restaurant as a gateway to their homeland, introducing us to Mexican food.

Their menu is a multi-page laminated ordeal, with lots of photos of the food, just in case you forgot what a steak or a taco looks like. We started with their fresh guacamole, made tableside in a molcajete. It is like my recipe, but lacking enough cilantro and jalapenos. As soon as it was placed on our table, it was gone. I may have had two chips.

Having recovered from the heat, I was considering the chicken soup, hoping it was like El Azteca’s great version, full of chicken, avocado and cilantro. LC said the tortillas soup was fantastic, so I ordered it instead. Only difference was that it was topped with crispy strips of tortillas. After a few moments, they were mushy and I had to extricate them from the bowl.

I ordered the carne asada tacos on corn tortillas, still hoping to find that magical carne asada flavor from Playa del Carmen. But alas, the meat was bland and the tortillas devoid of corniness. A sprinkling of cheese and guacamole did little to help.

Fast forward to last week, we returned with a slightly smaller group and were seated in the exact same spot. LC’s parents arrived ahead of us and had already ordered. We started off with their organic margaritas, delivered in a shaker with ice. Not exactly user-friendly, I spilled most of mine on the table.

Me and LC decided to split a shrimp quesadilla, not realizing that the only filling was grilled shrimp and cheese. No onions, no beans, it was pretty unsatisfying. There wasn’t even any lettuce on the plate to liven it up. Luckily I had ordered a small side of guacamole, since, one again, the molcajete was empty by the time we arrived.

LC’s Dad swears by the flank steak. On this visit, TT ordered it. I snagged a bite and it was indeed surprisingly tender and delicious.

Our server gets cudos for running his ass off for our every request. But in general, the food does not impress. This very big door just leads to your standard Texican fare.

4902 Atlanta Highway 678-393-8888

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.

Weeks after our drive back from Kentucky, I am finally getting to the food. Derby parties consisted of plenty of liquor and the ubiquitous BBQ. Dry rubbed or smoked, BBQ was present at practically every meal, from the sandwiches at Churchhill Downs to the graduation party we attended right before hitting the road.

Not that the BBQ wasn’t delicious. We had amazing ribs, tender pulled pork and juicy chicken slathered in mustardy sauce. But folks that know me know that BBQ is not at the top of my list.

On our way back to Atlanta, LC and I stopped for dinner at O’Charley’s somewhere in Tennessee. Another thing I’m not a fan of….national restaurant chains. But at least we’d have the option to eat something other than BBQ!

Having stopped at an off-track betting place on the Kentucky border where LC won a couple of grand, we were running late, so we took a seat at the bar in hopes of getting a quick meal. We didn’t even order any drinks.

The menu at O’Charley’s doesn’t hold any great surprises. Its choices, like potato skins and spinach artichoke dip, are pedestrian yet somehow comforting as well.

LC decided on the cedar planked tilapia with broccoli cheese casserole on the side. A special appetizer of chicken tortilla soup was half price, so he got that to start. I ordered the California chicken salad, a dish that has become somewhat standard, even at chains. Made with grilled chicken on field greens and romaine, it was topped with blue cheese crumbles, dried cranberries, candied pecans, mandarin oranges and strawberries. Fruit overkill. LC had the strawberries and mandarins for dessert.

His soup was a tasty bowl of sodium. The “healthy” fish entree was slathered with butter and the broccoli, of course, was baked with cheese, cream, and butter. Vegetables just aren’t worth a darn without cheese, right? Despite the butter, it probably was the least artery clogging dish on the menu.

Honestly, my salad was really good, although I’m pretty sure the chicken was not organic. The greens were fresh and crisp and the contrast of tart cranberries and sweet candied pecans has become a classic.

I can’t say I’d choose O’Charley’s in the city limits, given the numerous authentic restaurants, but it was a good choice on the road.

This should be the standard for all air travel….after enjoying a snack and drinks in the Sky Lounge, take a leisurely stroll to the jet where you can casually slip on your comfy socks and sip a little champagne.

First Class, now called Business Elite, on Delta is the ultimate in comfort on overnight flights, providing noise cancelling headsets and fully reclining seats. And then there’s the food. You know all the clinking of silverware you hear when you are in coach? Yeah, that’s First Class getting real food while you are removing the plastic wrappers and foil from your TV-dinner-like meal (more on those later).

Flight attendants in First Class take your order before you leave the ground. It’s cute that the options are in English and German….my first taste of my native language in quite some time. Celeb chef Michelle Bernstein designed some of the swanky dishes.

There is a choice for the first course, however, generally you get both. We had rosemary duck breast and couscous salad with dried fruit and almonds….indeed! Of course the duck was well-done, but the flavor of the dish was nice and I always love dried fruit with duck. Pumpkin bisque soup, “Kuerbiscremesuppe” auf Deutsch, the other appetizer choice, paired nicely with the duck and couscous.

Having already had two glasses of champagne, I chose the 2006 Chateau Beaumont bordeaux to have with my meal. Mom tried a South African chenin blanc that was similar to a good sauvignon blanc.

The second course was a large salad of mixed greens with yellow peppers, pecans, and blue cheese with balsamic vinaigrette. Nice and fresh.

Given the choice of grilled beef tenderloin with shrimp scampi or crab cakes, both me and my Mom chose the latter. For me, it was the fact that all meat is cooked well-done and I prefer beef medium-rare. Plus, the crab cakes came with baked spaghetti squash and braised leeks. Braised leeks!

The entree was very well-executed, with two meaty crab cakes and those meltingly delicious leeks. There was a bit too much nutmeg in the spaghetti squash though. And Mom complained about the copious mound of lemon aioli that sat between the two cakes.

Next was the cheese course or dessert. Actually, I have been known to have both, but this time Mom got the cheese and I got the ice cream sundae made with vanilla ice cream, strawberry sauce, chopped nuts, and whipped cream….very traditional.

After a second glass of red wine, I watched the Oscar winning movie The King’s Speech. It was awesome, but left only a couple of hours to try to sleep.

The next thing I knew the smell of coffee filled the cabin and we were awakened from our slumber to be served yet another meal of scrambled eggs on English muffins topped with melted cheese, spinach, served with Canadian bacon and a croissant. No doubt they feed you well in First Class!

Arriving in Frankfurt, the city of my birth, always causes me to reflect on the years that have passed since my last visit. So much has changed! Am I on the right path? I can see myself in one or two years, landing in Frankfurt once more. Then I will know the answers to all the questions I have now, but there’s always a list of new ones.