Hot Dish Review

Like last Thanksgiving with my folks, we went to dinner at Cafe on the Avenue again. Another case of deja vu, we were seated at the same table and ordered practically the same thing.

It’s a charming, cozy cafe in a renovated house set among antique stores and gift shops. Seems like the sort of place that may do better business at lunch when they offer an impressive array of salads and sandwiches.

We started off with a little wine. I vaguely recalled not loving the salad dressing before (although I could be mistaken) so I ordered the Caesar to start. My parents each got the house salad with no complaints. Garlic bread sticks were served alongside.

All three of us ordered the surf ‘n’ turf skewers, a combination of grilled steak, lobster, shrimp, and peppers on two skewers served with rice pilaf and mixed vegetables. First of all, why not separate the seafood from the beef so diners can order the steak the way they like it? Last year that wasn’t an option. Me and my Dad ordered this entree and the chunks of steak came out very well done, just the way he likes it.

I, on the other hand, prefer my steak cooked medium or medium-rare. This year I asked again, expecting a “sorry, they’re already skewered together” response. However, our server, who may have been the owner or manager as well, said she would see what she could do to accomodate me. Meanwhile, my Dad confirmed that he wanted his the regular way….overdone.

When the entrees arrived, I began removing the chunks of lobster and steak, and the shrimp that anchored the ends of each skewer. Fantastic! My steak was medium and extremely tender. And, unfortunately, so was my parents’ steak. My Dad had to send his back to be charred while I quietly enjoyed mine. Mom didn’t complain much but I could tell she would have liked them cooked a bit longer.

The meal wasn’t perfect, however. Each skewer had only one piece of lobster (same as last time). Rice pilaf was merely buttered white rice, as far as I could tell, and the vegetable medley of squash was entirely unremarkable. Already pissed off about the steak, my Dad noted that there were no grill marks on the shrimp like before. True.

Altogether, I would recommend it if you happen to be in Crystal River. The neighborhood’s upscale vintage vibe is a nice change of pace from the area’s down-home country spots.

On a side note, John Travolta and Kelly Preston have a house nearby that is perpetually “under construction”. We drove past and it is gorgeous! My Mom suspects the pile of dirt on the otherwise pristine driveway is simply a decoy.

631 Citrus Avenue, Crystal River, FL 352-795-3656

Zebulon and Jeremiah….almost sounds biblical, right? Well, they’re not exactly choir boys at the Baptist church, these dudes cook up one of the meanest menus in town at Livingston.

Following Gary Mennie’s recent departure, his sous chef Zeb Stevenson was promoted to Executive Chef. B and I are big fans of Zeb so we were excited to hear the news! With Fall upon us, we were invited to a media dinner where he debuted his new menu featuring the seasons best vegetables and fruits like Brussels sprouts and apples from Ellijay. Jeremiah, by the way, is the new sous.

Is it fair to do a review based upon one dinner, and a complimentary one at that? Sure, what the hell. Zeb served the table of a dozen or so food writers a selection of appetizers and salads, family style, so we all had the opportunity to sample a bit of everything.

Well-known foodie, writer, and television personality Carolyn O’Neil was among the guests and quipped about the blurry black and white photomural behind the adjacent booth. (Yes, it was intentionally blurry!) Later, one of the diners at my table remarked that Kwanza Hall was seated there. Me? Namedropping? Never.

The space is very dramatic in a rich, luxurious way, fitting for the renovated Georgian Terrace Hotel where it is located.

Our server, Wyatt, started us off with a little bubbly, then brought out an amuse bouche of tuna crudo topped with pistachio and candied mustard paired with a sliver of yellow beet with a champagne-vanilla vinaigrette…..an interesting nibble. The bread service was excellent, with an assortment of breads including the crispy sourdough roll I devoured, slavered in softened sweet cream butter.

An array of appetizers began to arrive….salads, crab cakes, bratwurst. Zeb came by to talk about the dishes. He pointed out that the crab cakes were more crab than cake. They were served on waffle potato chips and gone in a flash! I tried a taste of the sauvignon blanc that was pouring as well as a full glass of the red….can’t remember what varietal but I do know it was a 2008. CO’s friend M had inquired.

A simple spinach salad was dressed up with a smoky and sweet cippolini and candied bacon vinaigrette and topped with chunks of gorgonzola. Don’t let anyone tell you bacon is out of fashion, honey. Even better, however, was the smoked trout and apple salad. Like the Waldorf salad’s stylish cousin, this dish was a favorite of the table. I scraped the last bit out of the bowl to eat along with a slice of chicken bratwurst. Zeb makes the bratwurst in-house and serves it on a bed of shredded Brussels sprouts. Very German flavors, I was lovin’ it.

Then came my bodacious lobster. I probably should have prefaced that with the statement that our table was given the full menu of entrees, eleven in all, from which to choose. (Then back to family style for dessert.)

Back to the butter poached lobster. Once again Zeb was there to explain the intricacies of poaching a lobster in butter and water….a precise science and well worth the effort. It was supposed to be served with chive gnocchi and garlic broth. When Wyatt detected my lukewarm attitude towards the potato dumplings, he suggested a substitution (gasp!) of the truffle mac ‘n’ cheese. Yessir!

I was hoping the mac would be baked, served in its own little ramekin but it was beneath the lobster instead. Can’t complain about creamy, truffley goodness and buttery tender lobster.

After much debate B decided upon the grilled skirt steak with hand cut fries and smoked hollandaise. She commented that the tender steak really flipped her skirt and we all laughed. Zeb’s hollandaise was made with cold-smoked butter. Mad scientist! Rather than being heavy and rich, the sauce was lightly whipped. I found myself dipping bites of lobster in it, as well as stealing her skin-on fries.

Across from me KL had the juicy filet mignon with creamed spinach, and M had the lamb chop. I tasted his spaetzle, forgetting that it was flavored with mint. Although herbaciously green, I didn’t detect mint specifically. Creative side. Four or five of us ordered the lobster. I would have had a hard time choosing between the two smoked meats, duck and pork, had I not been enthralled by the lobster.

Each week Livingston hosts Millionaire Mondays, offering a three course dinner with a choice of lobster or filet mignon for only $16. And there is a nightly theatre menu with four entree selections, that includes a glass of wine, for just $29.

A platter of flourless chocolate tart, a chocolate mousse, and espresso ice cream was presented, complimented by another glass of red wine. Beignets with coconut dipping sauce were crispy and irresistible.

We bid our acquaintances farewell and made our way to the bar, having a chat and a smoke with the two chefs, across from the fabulous Fox Theatre, it’s grandeur and history intertwined in Atlanta’s story. And I thought how grand it was all of us making new history here. Makin’ it happen.

659 Peachtree Street NE 404-897-5000

Few restaurants, other than those in hotels, serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner. That degree of service seems daunting if not a tad overly ambitious. Some restaurants, like Serpas for instance, add brunch after a successful year of dinner service.

Not so for Hugh Acheson of Empire State South. Having gained notoriety in Athens for his farm fresh menus at Five and Ten and The National, his much anticipated Atlanta debut kicked off with three squares a day. I joined BB there for lunch on Friday to discuss his upcoming project and share a bit of industry gossip.

Located on the ground floor of the 999 Peachtree building, the space includes a quaint courtyard with bocce ball. Inside, the space is painted a deep shade of blue with wood floors, accented with brown leather banquettes and rustic country-style light fixtures….modern Southern, like the food.

I wasn’t planning to drink at lunch but very little arm-twisting was required before I was inquiring about the character of each red wine offered by the glass. We settled on a glass of the Branham cab and another of the Le Paradou grenache/syrah blend.

A little jar of pork rillette was a good match with the wine, however I found the toast too greasy. All three of the people seated at the table adjacent to ours had ordered “Super-food”, a silly name for a weird combination of hanger steak, beets, pistachios, wheatberries with feta, roasted Winter squash, mixed local beans and peas, and dressed radishes, all served on a bed of local lettuces. My bet was that BB would follow suit.

Initially he was leaning toward the arugula salad but in the end, I won the bet. Predictably, I ordered the crisp duck leg confit under the heading “Meat and Three”. Next to the heading the menu directs diners to pick two sides and a daily bread. The sides of the day were not thrilling. I was hoping for some preparation of sweet potatoes or Brussels sprouts but none were offered. I chose the collards with ham hock and wheatberries with feta-cranberry.

My duck confit and sides arrived with an enormous slab of Texas toast. I had neglected to choose a “daily bread” because there wasn’t a list of breads on the menu, but I assure you I wouldn’t have chosen this one, so dense it was closer to pound cake than bread.

I was quite pleased with my duck leg, its exceedingly tender meat falling off the bone beneath the mostly crispy skin. I love the toothsome quality of wheatberries. These were served warm, dotted with semi-sweet cranberries. Feta was MIA on my plate, but BB’s wheatberries were topped with a good bit of it.

Then there were the collards, perhaps the best I’ve ever had. Having grown up in the South, that is quite a statement. Rich with chunks of ham, there was a subtle smokiness and a distinct tang of vinegar. Just damn perfect.

BB enjoyed his hanger steak, cooked medium, and the accompanying beets in particular. The steak was nice but my favorite thing on his plate were the dressed watermelon radishes, much like the paper-thin sliced assortment at Miller Union.

Other meats on offer were an airline chicken breast, grilled pork loin, and a pan roasted Carolina trout. Fingerling potatoes, field peas with rice and fennel-apple slaw rounded out the selection of sides.

We ordered two more glasses of wine, intentially confusing which was which, sipping each in turn. I requested a dessert menu, despite seeing an unappetizing slice of red velvet cake on a table nearby. You may already know how I feel about cake so suffice it to say I would not order anything who’s flavor is a color. Sure, red velvet cake is as Southern as fried pie but one would think Acheson’s love of natural and organic produce might discourage his pastry chef Chris Marconi from putting a dessert on the menu that relies on unnatural food coloring. Other sweets included bourbon pecan pie and a buttermilk chess tart that might have been good if we had more time.

Empire State South joins Atlanta’s new breed of restaurants who’s menus evolve with the seasons. If you like that trend, you’re gonna like ESS.

An old favorite from back in the day…..
My favorite dive, Elmyr in L5P, has been the scene of many hours of drinking margaritas, eating their awesome quesadillas, and just hanging out. I’ve always felt at home with the punk rock crowd. The walls are covered with murals, graffiti, rock posters and flyers….makes it harder to see the roaches.

I recently met SS there along with his brother TS, in town from SF for the funeral. I like to sit on the covered patio but SS wanted to sit at a table in the bar area. Too hungover for tequila, I ordered a refreshing Corona with lime. Me and SS have had countless quesadillas there. Never greasy, almost healthy, they are crisp on the outside and full of flavor.

SS got his usual, steak with avocado. I was going to get my usual too, chicken, onion, black beans, and jalapenos, with guacamole on the side, but ended up getting shrimp instead of chicken. Something new! Each comes with your choice of three salsas, all of them great; pico de gallo, salsa verde, and regular. The plate is garnished with a lettuce leaf with a huge dollop of sour cream.

So what the fuck happened? Our quesadillas were soggy. There was what seemed like a whole can of black beans in mine. SS said his steak was cut into chunks instead of the usual strips….he didn’t like it. And they were bland, too. Guacamole and salsas were as good as always, adding the only flavor to the mushy things.

Standard Tex-Mex items like soft tacos, nachos, and burritos are also on the menu. Everything is a la carte, no worthless rice and refried beans here!

After eight or so years seems like Elmyr is having some quality control issues. I’ll go back, of course. It’s like visiting an old friend.

By the way, I never get their chips. They suck.

1091 Euclid Avenue 404-588-0250

Leave it the Top Flr guys (Darren Carr, Jeff Myers, Shane Devereux) to introduce yet another new concept to Atlanta! B and I finally dined at their new restaurant, Sound Table, having been there a few times already for cocktails. Only open a few weeks now, this is the space where B and I attended the Dinner Party in February, Darren Carr’s other venture with partner Patrick La Bouff.

The Sound Table is a dual concept; downstairs is a bar/lounge with local and national DJ’s spinning, upstairs is a full restaurant. When the upstairs is winding down, the downstairs is cranking up….literally. Very New York. Jeff Myers, plus a third partner in the business, Karl Injex, are DJ’s so the emphasis on music here is natural. As their ad in Creative Loafing so appropriately states, sound is on the menu.

Their drink menu downstairs is just as detail oriented as the dinner menu upstairs, with a selection of old-fashioned spirits poured and shaken into creative cocktails like the Pink City Rickey and the White Tiger’s Milk.

Upstairs, lights are low, walls are exposed brick. Seating is mostly wood slat benches. Fine if you are wearing pants, not so good if you are wearing a mini dress. But the benches do serve to create a minimalist Asian-style vibe that diners see mirrored throughout the menu.

Our fabulous server Nick started us off with a fantastic 2007 cab, Blue Rock “Baby Blue”. He also recommended the fried sugar snap peas to snack on, calling them “addictive”. Seasoned with soy sauce, they were yummy.

The menu has a multi-culti flair, with everything from Israeli falafel to Algerian cous-cous. Everything is a la carte and reasonably priced to fit the Old Fourth Ward neighborhood. Four sections differentiate portion size and serving style. Bowls, for instance, are served in….you guessed it, bowls. Of the four bowls offered we ordered three; a salad, a soup, and a curry dish.

I love frisee. And duck confit. So the salade frisee, also with macerated raisins, was a given. Crispy and light.

Seeing Vietnamese pho on a menu not on Buford Highway just worries me. I’ve eaten lots of pho, on Buford Highway and in New York. With Vietnamese people. Pho has rules. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to try to duplicate it here, although the presentation was approaching correct. But the broth lacked depth. B and I both wanted more spice.

Ditto on the Kaeng Daeng pork with red curry, coconut milk, and kaffir lime. Served over perfect sticky rice, it needed more sauce, more spice.

Having drank all the cab we moved on to the 2008 Monastrell, Olivares “Altos de la Hoya” from Spain.

Oaxacan hangar steak, medium rare, came on a long plate with a spicy puree. It was tender, flavorful, awesome. I ordered the Belgian-style frites with it, a classic pairing. Hot, crispy, and served with housemade mayo, the fries were cut a bit thick for my taste but B loved them.

Chef Devereux was not there but the kitchen was in the capable hands of his Chef de Cuisine, Andrew Sheridan. As members of the Shane Devereux fanclub, we couldn’t help but be disappointed. Service, however, was spot-on. Dishes were expedited in a steady and professional fashion.

Sweet potato cheesecake (I think) was for dessert. Not made in-house, but good nonetheless. They will be making sweets there soon.

I don’t know how much wine we drank but both B and I were wickedly buzzed as we hobbled down the stairs. WTF? We are usually such pros!

B said it best when she said our meal was good, but not compelling. We are looking forward to returning to Sound Table when they’ve had a minute to smooth out some of the kinks. Good luck boys!

483 Edgewood Avenue at the corner of Boulevard

Eight chefs. Two hundred guests seated dockside at lake Clara Meer in Piedmont Park. Dinner Party’s first big event and the weather forecast was threatening thunderstorms, but alas, it was Patrick and Darren’s lucky day. Humidity may have wreaked havoc on some of the chicks’ hair but no rain.

B and I parked in the controversial Piedmont Park deck and walked a bit….glad Patrick recommended no heels. Three drink stations provided cocktails as we arrived at the stone building near the dock. A short rum and ginger drink was a spicy and refreshing start from mixologist Greg Best of Holeman and Finch (I think).

The chef line-up was impressive, including Hector Santiago of Pura Vida and one of last season’s Top Chef contestants. Nick Melvin of Parish and Craig Richards of La Tavola were cookin’, as was Andrew Sheridan listed as chef at The Sound Table, Darren’s new restaurant (along with partners Jeff Myers and Karl Injex) which opens tonight (tonight?).

Local farms provided the farm-fresh veggies and meats while the Pope High School culinary team worked with the chefs for this event to benefit the Piedmont Park Conservancy.

It was nearly impossible to choose a seat as each chef had a different menu, utilizing the same local ingredients for each course. But I love Top Flr so B and I sat at Shane’s table, ironically next to Patrick’s lovely Mom who was seated next to Felicia Feaster, my zodiac twin.

Overlooking the water, the venue was illuminated by candlelight as dusk settled around us. Diners were giddy with anticipation.

Dinner Party guests usually get a printed menu but Shane changed his dishes at the last minute so our table was at his mercy, except for me. I got his actual menu notes! Sommelier Valerie was pairing and pouring, I don’t know how she managed to come up with different wines for each course, and each chef, but she did a splendid job.

Our meal began with an enormous Georgia prawn, split and topped with collards, complimented by vibrant cherry tomatoes, shaved pecorino, and a light citrus vinaigrette.

My favorite dish of the evening, however, would be the second course. I knew the moment I deciphered Shane’s scribbled words of “pork rillette” and “Vidalia confit”. His rillette was less fatty than Abattoir’s but nevertheless rich, served over a perfectly crisp crostini topped with the sweet yet savory caramelized onions. Candied kumquats provided an additional sweet note that works so well with pork. Just brilliant.

Our entree was a thin slice of top round atop a Ceasar salad. We didn’t love it. My steak was not very tender and I thought the dish was a bit boring after the first two incredible courses. But with the red meat came the red wine….hooray! A 2008 Dolcetta d’Alba.

Dessert was a cheesecake, I believe made with Sweet Grass Dairy chevre, presented in a tiny jar with mascerated strawberries. A spoon would have been the preferred utensil to eat it with but given the circumstances, what the hell. Good but not amazing like the dessert at the Dinner Party B and I attended in February.

For their first BIG event, the boys certainly did an impressive job! But you know, I really wouldn’t expect anything less. Look for photos to be posted on their website and on facebook soon.

www.dinnerpartyatlanta.com

Opening a fine dining restaurant during the worst of economic times doesn’t sound like a smart business move, but somehow Pacci has survived and thrived. Perhaps it’s chef Keira Moritz who has gained notoriety and respect among her mostly male peers. Maybe its location in one of several new, trendy midtown hotels brings it the automatic business that hotel restaurants rely on, serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner to guests.

Or, it could be that it simply kicks ass. It is fairly common knowledge that I rarely eat Italian food. But I acquiesed on this assignment for AFD because I liked that a successful female chef was running the show.

ST and I valeted the HotDishmobile last Friday and walked in to Pacci. There was Geno! How fabulous, I hadn’t seen him since his days at Spice Market. We sat newlywed style on a banquette with a view of the expansive and dark dining room, lit by sets of enormous globes that hung from the high ceiling, shaded by long black fringe. The burgundy velvet and wood tones of the decor are puncuated by light blue and cream jacquard armchairs, one per table. Elegant.

Geno started us out with a couple of specialty bellinis, one with vanilla liqueur and the other with passion fruit. Then he brought out an amuse bouche of butter lettuce with seafood salad, light and fun.

After some discussion, Geno recommended a wine flight for me….a trio of 2007 pinot noirs from Sequana Vineyard, each with a distinct character. I ended up ordering another glass or two of the spicy Dutton Ranch.

The kobe beef carpacio was our first course, dressed with capers, tapenade, and baby arugula. Their bread service was an assortment of crispy wafers, focaccia, and cracker-like bread sticks. Problem with that is, I love authentic Italian bread and would prefer to have that at an Italian restaurant, with sweet butter please.

For our second course ST chose the lobster and butternut squash bisque with creme fraiche. Smooth and creamy, I don’t recall any chunks of lobster but the flavor was rich, reminiscent of she crab soup.

Naturally, I ordered the duck confit. A perfect example of this cooking method, the meat was succulent, falling of the bones, while the skin was super crispy. Served over soft polenta with bits of gorgonzola and blackberry marmalade, it sounds like a foolproof combination. But somehow, the four main components were not integrated. I found the gorgonzola unnecessary and while I do love a sweet accompaniment to duck, perhaps the dish would have been even better with mascerated blackberries. Nevertheless, it was damn awesome.

Eating our way down the menu, next came pastas. ST tried the shrimp fettucini with creamy pancetta sauce, Spring peas, and a soft fried egg on top, a.k.a carbonara. Rich, rich, and delicious. I ordered the sweet potato ravioli (how predictable!). Four raviolis came topped with gorgonzola and speck with brown butter. Rich, rich, and delicious.

More? Yes. The pork chop with fennel, roasted yam, and pomegranate-basil pesto had my name written all over it. One of the best chops I have had in recent memory, very tender. Pesto provided a little Italian flavor, but it was the roasted yams, sliced into thin disks with crispy caramelized edges that were amazing!

ST got the dry aged New York strip, medium, with a side of cannellini beans. Big steak. Good steak. Guess what we had for breakfast….steak and eggs.

Desserts include the quintessential Italian tiramisu and panna cotta, but we opted for the straightforward sweets, chocolate strata and rum bread pudding. I cannot say no to bread pudding! Pastry chef Elizabeth Matheson’s version is baked in its own small casserole dish topped with caramel and a little dollop of vanilla gelato. Personally, I would drizzle the caramel on the hot pudding so it would remain gooey rather than on the cold ice cream, but no matter, it was fabulous. ST’s chocolate strata was a huge slice of chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse, served with vanilla gelato. Pretty presentation, pretty chocolately.

We were stuffed! Despite a couple of minor complaints, Pacci made a great impression on both of us.

866 West Peachtree Street NW 678-412-2402

Last week I stumbled upon an article about the lengthy leisurely lunches typical of Mexico called la comida, starting around 3pm and lasting, sometimes, until 7pm. I totally get that….confirms my suspicions that I was Mexican in a past life!

I’ve always felt a special affinity towards Mexico….the food, the people, the place. Making guacamole, quesadillas, and flautas is second nature to me, no recipes required (although you may need one here is my kickass quac recipe!). And everything tastes better with cilantro on it!

Those lazy lunches remind me of the old BH days when a few of us would gather at El Azteca, sit around and drink margaritas and smoke cigarettes. More friends would show up. Some would leave, some would stay. There could be as many as a dozen at a time, a revolving door of salsa and tequila, laughter and friendship….the very definition of la comida.

The first warm day of Spring you’ll find me on a patio somewhere. Friday me and ST made another visit to Pure Taqueria in Inman Park, this time for our very own la comida. I intended to make myself at home and just chill. My traditional shot of Herradura Silver, shaken, with salt and lime was a great start, followed by a Negra Modelo for him and a house margarita for me….a comparative steal at just $5.95.

Guacamole, “Gringo” cheese dip, chips and salsa were soon to follow. Their guac is good and chunky, although I wish it had more jalapeno and cilantro….always more cilantro please! Love the cheese dip with pureed jalapenos on top. But the chips….aye carumba! Too thick.

Thomas, the owner, was there. I like that. And the manager, Cliff, was very hospitable. They both recommended the jaiba, or crab fritters. Four fried balls resting in a sweet and sour chili sauce, drizzled on top with a habanero-avocado mayo. I thought they were a little fishy, didn’t love ‘em.

Then a crazy blast from the past….Pam from The Tombstones days comes out to check on us. Funny how people’s lives are intertwined.

On our first visit to Pure we didn’t try the tacos. I still search (so far in vain) for the corn tortillas of Playa del Carmen. The kind that taste like corn. Filled with tender beef, a few shreds of white queso, and that chunky guacamole with plenty of jalapenos and cilantro….the best tacos ever! I was anxious to try Pure’s tacos made with corn tortillas. Would they have that authentic Mexican corn flavor?

We ordered four tacos a la carte; camarones (shrimp) with poblano slaw, puerco (pork), beef short rib with smoky pickled red onions, and carne asada….skirt steak like in Playa del Carmen. That would be the true test. Our favorite turned out to be the shrimp, even though they were breaded and fried, they had great flavor and texture. Naturally, the tortillas were just OK, like everywhere else. The short rib taco didn’t thrill me or ST, but the others were quite good, although I must admit I think the tacos at El Taco have a slight edge.

ST ordered the grilled hanger steak and jalapeno mac ‘n’ cheese for his entree and I had the chicken enchiladas with mole sauce. Mole is an acquired taste. I don’t know why I continue to try to like it, it’s a taste I haven’t acquired. Not bad, just not my thing. ST’s steak, cooked perfectly medium was tender and delicious, although I believe mac ‘n’ cheese should always be baked. Pure’s version, with penne, could have been made with Velveeta.

No room for dessert this time…..thankfully we had dessert before we came.

I do like Pure. There are more creative dishes on the menu that I plan to try like the quesadillas made with corn masa turnovers and the Hamburguesa Sedgwick, a grilled angus burger with avocado, bacon, jalapenos, braised onions and pepperjack cheese….hell yeah!

300 N. Highland Avenue 404-522-7873

I’m a Southern girl. Sorta. My Mom is German, my Dad is American and I grew up in a small town in Tennessee.

Although my Dad’s family was poor, they ate remarkably healthy. They grew what they ate….green beans, corn, squash, tomatoes, everything. The chickens that ran around the coop could easily end up on the dinner table, having already provided their eggs for breakfast.

Fast forward to my childhood. My Mom was a health nut, always looking for ways to modify Southern favorites. She substituted low-sodium chicken broth for regular in my Grandma’s cornbread dressing. Later, she started using Egg-Beaters instead of whole eggs. Just suble changes, the same great flavor, better nutrition. We ate from the garden in the Spring and Summer, canned green beans for the Winter. I loved okra, poke salad, fried green tomatoes, and sweet taters….and still do!

So what most folks consider Southern cooking is somewhat unfamiliar to me (by most folks I mean yankees). There were no grits or casseroles in my house, no fried chicken or macaroni and cheese.

What I’m getting at is I don’t like typical Southern food….the artery-clogging butter-laden Paula Deen fare. I tend to avoid any restaurant that is even remotely Southern. However, ST had a nice gift card for Dogwood. I had been wanting to go since they opened, having perused the menu, despite its Southernish pedigree.

The space is beautiful with big photos of Dogwood blossoms, white tablecloths, and soft, romantic lighting. I started with a glass of the peppery Hullabaloo zin and ST got a Negra Modelo.

Their specialty is the grits bar. Not a bar at all, but rather specifically Red Mule yellow stone ground grits from Athen, GA topped with one of three toppings: Brunswick stew, pimento cheese and Benton’s fried ham, or braised mushrooms and shaved parmesan. ST likes grits and I felt compelled to try them so we got the Brunswick stew topped bowl. Super creamy, they seemed to have some cheese in them. I could eat a ton of this stuff!

Another Southern thing I don’t like is biscuits. Dogwood’s bread service was reminiscent of biscuits….kudos for creatively making that connection without serving actual biscuits. The crust was crunchy and it was hot out of the oven, admittedly pretty good, although it would have been better with unsalted butter.

We split the grilled baby romaine salad with smoked bacon, blue cheese, Fuji apples, dressed with a creamy red wine vinaigrette. It was awesome, probably my favorite dish of the evening.

My starter of roasted Georgia quail with cornbread-andouille stuffing with country ham butter and mushrooms was really good. The skin was somewhat crisp, a solid flavorful dish.
ST ordered the crispy gulf oysters with caramelized fennel-onion jam, and fried shiitakes. I’m not a big fan of oysters but tried one of the four. I was a big fan of the sweet caramelized onions.

For our entrees ST ordered the Painted Hills NY strip, medium, served with duck fat potatoes and I had the (no surprise here) local honey glazed Ashley Farms duck breast with sweet potato and poached pears.

His steak was huge and delicious. The leftover meat became steak and eggs for breakfast. My duck was the best I’ve had in a long while and as you all know, I eat a lot of duck. Cooked medium, the skin was crisped, the thick slices displayed atop pureed sweet potatoes and poached pears. The best part, however, was the surprise of a bit of honeycomb. Fucking awesome!

Our dessert was a modern take on s’mores…..chocolate creme brulee with a dollop of torched marshmallow, and a graham cracker biscotti. I didn’t taste much graham flavor in the biscotti, it would have been better with just plain ol’ graham crackers like the ones Grandma used to keep in her cupboard.

Ingredients like Georgia mountain trout, pecans, hominy, pimento cheese, peanuts, and grits sound Southern but don’t let the menu fool you. This is upscale dining. My Grandma never made blood orange fumet or sauternes sabayon.

If Atlanta restaurants keep blowing me away with modern comfort food (like Miller Union) and kickass “Southern” fare, I may just consider myself converted.

565 Peachtree Street 404-835-1410

Hours after arriving in Rio, AD and I were at a sidewalk cafe on the corner called Churrasco Vila Rica. Neither of us speak any Portugese so even requesting a menu was a task! She had her phrase book which came in handy but it was Deborah, seated at the table next to us, who gave us loads of advice….about Carnival, food, and watching our backs in Brazil.

She helped us order something to share. We wanted authentic Brazilian food, the everyday fare that the neighborhood folks love. Churrasco is a thin skirt steak, not the most tender or high quality cut, especially since it was cooked well-done. But we couldn’t complain, it’s grilled flavor hit the spot. Served with black beans, rice, and batata frita, a.k.a. fries.

There was also a mystery dish. We noticed other diners sprinkled it on their meat or beans so we followed suit. No one, not even Deborah in her relatively decent English, could tell us what is was exactly. Turns out it is called farofa, a traditional dish of the region. Made of toasted manioc flour it usually contains bits of bacon. I still don’t get why they use it, but I was compelled to do the same….hell, there was bacon in it!

We washed it all down with lots of cold cerveja!

Street food is everywhere in Rio. You can count on skewered and grilled steak, sausage, and chicken. AD got a steak skewer one afternoon that was really delicious, dipped in farofa of course.

Vendors sold fruit, mostly bananas and mangoes, but also agua de coco, or coconut water. They literally slice the top off a coconut and insert a straw. Ironically, my Mom told me about coconut water recently due to it’s extremely high levels of potassium. It was 95 degrees most days during our visit in Rio. People get sweaty! Which as we all know depletes one’s potassium. And what is full of potassium? Bananas and coconut water. Just goes to show that folks are naturally drawn to what their body’s need.

It was Morocco that introduced me to the frango frita, a pear shaped fried dough filled with minced chicken. M would get one every day after the beach and soon, I too was in the habit. He would get the sugar cane juice with it, both for a mere 2.70 Reals (about $1.50).

Lots of juice bars and snack shops in our neighborhood, like Hobby and Chan, sold them. I preferred the ones from Chan. Although they were drier, they had an awesome green hot sauce that we drizzled on the fritters after each bite.

Our hostel was right around the corner. Time for cerveja! There was a cooler right there in the lobby so I would run down and get a beer and go back upstairs to the deck where me and AD would check emails, smoke cigarettes, hang with the gang, and make plans for the next day, all in the sweltering heat of Brazil. Um cerveja por favor! Obrigado!