Hot Dish Review

Driving back from Helen last weekend, LC and I got a call from one of his friends to join him and his girlfriend for dinner at Red Sky Tapas Bar. Despite being full of weiners and kraut from our brief Oktoberfest visit, we said yes.

We rushed home to freshen up and headed back North. I was excited to try a new tapas bar and LC was excited to see (and hear) the dueling pianos, which were in full swing when we arrived. Our friends were already there enjoying the entertainment. We ordered drinks, prosecco for me and a vodka martini for LC, and a few tapas to share, like the grilled jerk wings, fried green tomatoes, and spicy chicken egg rolls. My favorite of the three was the tomatoes topped with goat cheese and a spicy chipotle aioli.

Our next round took on a seafood and bacon theme with bacon wrapped scallops, ahi tuna, and two orders of the lobster mac ‘n’ cheese with bacon. More impressive than the first set, I was particularly fond of the thick scallops, grilled to a golden brown. Delicate ahi tuna was cut into cubes and drizzled with a spicy sriracha mayo. Having eaten Goin’ Coastal’s incredible lobster mac full of claws and chunks of shellfish on many occassions, it was hard to get excited about Red Sky’s version. The lobster was imperceptable, but the dish was saved by the addition of bacon.

I switched to Murphy Goode red zin as we moved on to red meat with the appropriately messy citrus barbecue ribs and shrimp and filet medallions drizzled with whiskey sauce, neither of which photographed very well. Perhaps it was the third round of drinks that caused my camera to malfunction!

Our eating slowed down as we sang along to popular tunes from the dueling piano dudes, one of which is shown laying on top of his opponent’s piano in the photo above. Just good clean fun (except for the ribs!).

1255 Johnson Ferry Road 770-973-0100

Patience is a virtue I lack. Or, perhaps I am simply efficient. When I shop I can cover a department store in under 20 minutes. I’m in and out of the grocery store in a flash. And, my disdain for the suburbs is legendary. So spending over two hours at Kohl’s in Alpharetta recently was less than ideal.

Later, I accompanied LC to the neighborhood AT & T store, after which we went in search of an afternoon snack. We passed one strip mall after another, each anchored by a pasteurized, homogenized big-box retailer….Costco, Walmart, Target, Home Depot. Alpharetta’s got ‘em all.

Ditto for restaurant chains that surround them. After thirty minutes of driving around, I didn’t see even one independently owned, non-franchise restaurant. We settled for Hudson Grille, a local sportsbar chain with four locations in the Atlanta area, owned by Metrotainment who’s holdings also include Garrison’s, Einstein’s, and Cowtippers.

It was almost warm enough to sit outside, but alas, we couldn’t see the big screen due to the sun’s glare, so we moved inside where we were surrounded by multipled big screens, each showing a different college basketball game. At this point, I was in need of an alcoholic beverage.

Hudson Grille offers your typical sportsbar fare with a good amount of Texican dishes much like Taco Mac. As a rule, I usually don’t order tacos unless I’m at a Mexican restaurant, but our server did such a great job she almost sold me on their chicken tacos. Unfortunately, we had tacos the night before so I ordered sliders and LC went with his standard hot wings, and we shared a side of onion rings.

Although they were topped with caramelized onions and pepper jack, the sliders didn’t deliver much flavor. Perhaps it was the proportion of bread to meat….about 90/10. Honestly, Krystals are much better. Onion rings were good and crispy, but LC was disappointed with the lack of spice on his hot wings. To their credit, they serve the wings with high quality chunky blue cheese dressing for dipping the traditional celery sticks.

Our experience at Hudson Grille was not a bad one. The service was excellent (and efficient!) and they have an absurd amount of flat screen TV’s which would be great for March madness. But at the end of the day, it’s your typical sports bar, set in the suburban sprawl of Alpharetta.

865 North Main Street 770-777-4127

You know how much I love the burbs. Working on the weekend in Kennesaw? Double the fun.

After a few hours of setting up a trade show display at a school on a recent Sunday, LC and I stopped by Keegan’s Public House for a bite and a brew before heading to (I kid you not) the office for more work.

Pubs are usually also sports bars, so LC’s alterior motive was to watch the end of the Falcons game. But their TV’s were placed where they were hard to see from the booths, and the bar was full of patrons.

We sat in a booth anyway and ordered two Irish car bombs, shots of Baileys and Jameson’s that are dropped into half pints of Guinness draft, then quickly consumed. My unfortunate introduction to this concoction (5 of them) resulted in my car keys being locked in my office on Christmas Eve some years ago, but that’s another story.

Today, just one car bomb would erase the last few hours and smooth out our jangled nerves. But our break time was short and food was in order. LC and I often share things, so we tried the appetizer sampler, heart disease on a platter, including 2 beef sliders, 5 hot wings, and 2 Irish Spring rolls. I tried to counteract the cholesterol with their spinach salad topped with Granny Smith apples, candied walnuts, and blue cheese, but the dressing was pure bacon grease.

Wings and blue cheese were not extraordinary….we would have liked them spicier, but it was the meager serving of celery that baffled me. Isn’t celery cheap? Can I have more than 2 tiny slivers? The fatty beef sliders were topped with melted cheese and grilled onions….delicious. I thought the Irish Spring rolls were clever, made with corned beef, cabbage, and Swiss cheese wrapped in wontons and fried, of course. Thousand island dipping sauce added to the caloric nightmare.

Other selections were standard Irish fare….shepherd’s pie, bangers and mash, fish ‘n’ chips. Another Guinness for me before we hit the road, our bellies full.

1625 Ridenhour Blvd, Kennesaw 678-213-2461

LC and I were determined to make the best of our beach vacation, despite the lingering tropical storm. While looking at a map of the nearby attractions, he stumbled upon a racetrack in Ebro. Not exactly Churchill Downs, it was a greyhound track. But the place is full of TV’s showing all the horse races throughout the country and patrons are there for one reason….to bet.

Food is not the focus here, but gamblers gotta eat! An abbreviated menu of standard bar fare was enough to keep ‘em alive so they could place their bets.

No stranger to horse racing, LC was practically giddy. Ironically, the birthday card I gave him had lucky numbers inside. We played them on some races and did quite well. But he missed the big money when he failed to bet on a longshot….one of the lucky numbers.

We didn’t let the dogs chase the bunny for nothing, but dogs are much harder to predict than horses. So we drank a few Miller Lites and studied the racing forms. With five tracks running all day, as soon as we bet on a race, another was set to go off minutes later. Non-stop action!

After a couple of hours of betting, it was time to get some lunch. LC ordered a chicken sandwich on a croissant, while I played it safe with a bacon cheeseburger. Both of us substituted potato chips with fries.

His came out in about ten minutes. Mine came out thirty minutes later….no joke. I was not impressed with LC’s sandwich, however, my burger was fatty, juicy goodness. Unfortunately, they use crinkle fries which I despise….they always have a mealy texture on the inside.

The following day we awoke to more rain, the wind creating a mini-tornado in the courtyard between the condo buildings. Another stormy day, another day at the track.

There was no live doggie action, but a couple of horse tracks kept LC happy while I perused the menu again for the least offensive item. I chose the hot wings, sauce on the side. Eight fat and crispy wings arrived, fried with expert skill. The wing sauce was thin and hot as hell. My mouth was on fire, cooled off with celery dipped in blue cheese dressing and a gulp of Blue Moon.

LC is a wing fanatic so I was shocked that he didn’t rave about these. I thought they were just about the best I had ever eaten.

And that’s why I ordered them again the following day. Sad but true.

6558 Dog Track Road, Ebro, FL 850-234-3943

Shortly after arriving home on my 9 1/2 hour flight from Frankfurt, LC and I were sitting on the patio at Diesel, enjoying the gorgeous weather, some refreshing beer, and some good food.

Weary of brot und wurst, I needed to refuel on some good ol’ American, starting off with a Miller Lite….can’t get more American than that!

Having already had breakfast, lunch, and dinner on European time, I found myself back in the states in the early afternoon, confusing my mealtime clock. No worries, LC and I would get a few items to share, mix ‘n’ match, like we always do.

The restaurant’s close proximity to my house, plus its spacious patio and laid-back vibe, make it an easy choice. Not to mention, we’ve had some pretty darn tasty food here. A dozen hot wings and sweet potato fries have become our standard order, to which I added the spinach salad.

A big bowl of fresh spinach came out first, topped with bacon, mushrooms, boiled eggs, candied walnuts, and a fried green tomato. It was a brilliant composition of sweet and salty, crunchy and chewy. We both loved it, although there was too much breading on the tomato.

More beer was ordered as we relaxed, leisurely eating the spicy wings and crispy, sweet fries. Happily, I got my second wind. Was it time for dessert? Almost. But first LC wanted to get an order of the BBQ shrimp, swimming in a spicy Cajun broth served with bread for dipping. They were good but I was full so he polished them off.

Now it was time for dessert!

There is no chance I would have ever come across this place on my own, but LC lives in Alpharetta and was at Montana’s almost every time we talked last Summer.

It’s the kind of place with something for everyone, including 27 big screen TV’s for sports fans, and live music on the weekends.

Despite a seemingly pedestrian menu, LC raved about their food. Where the menu lacks in originality, it more than makes up for in flavor, like the surprisingly awesome white bean chili.

He talked me into making the drive north with him a couple of weeks ago. I was craving a cigarette and Montana’s is one of the few places left that allows smoking inside, so I was all for it.

The place is huge, with a small bar in front, a dining area that was totally empty on the night of our visit, and the big enclosed “patio” where the bands set up, complete with neon signs, plastic palm trees, and American flags. This is also the smoking area so we settled into a booth. Nearby I spotted an old friend, EC, who is single-handedly responsible for my love of Braves baseball. I told LC the story as we sipped our beers and I lit a smoke from the pack I found at the Widespread Panic show a couple of days earlier.

We decided to share a few random items, tapas style. First, the white bean chili I mentioned before….a slow cooked specialty made with great Northern white beans, chicken, jalapenos, and cilantro. Damn if it wasn’t kickass! It could have used more cilantro on top, but I can hardly complain. A little heat and a ton of flavor.

Another surprise was the macaroni and cheese. The side dish was made with rigatoni drenched in a rich bechamel sauce, then individually baked to melt and brown the cheeses on top. It would give any trendy in-town restaurant some stiff competition.

LC wanted his favorite, hot wings, so we ordered a dozen extra hot. We were disappointed that they came out with carrots instead of celery as listed on the menu, but the crisp veggie did the trick to cool off our tongues, dipped in their chunky blue cheese dressing after each scorching bite of juicy chicken.

Among other predictable menu items, Montana’s serves burgers, quesadillas, nachos, crab cakes, and BBQ ribs. If our meal is any indication, my guess is that many of these items would be equally impressive.

Another beer, another cigarette, as the band was warming up. No wonder LC likes this place….it’s easy, laid-back. I would definitely recommend a visit if you are in the burbs!

13695 Highway 9, Alpharetta 678-366-8928

The weather on Sunday was perfect for golf, yet somehow I ended up drinking beer and eating at Meehan’s with LC, watching the Falcons lose. As my friend JC texted, “the birds failed to fly”. Indeed, beaten by our nemesis in every sport, Philadelphia. (It was the weekend of The Eagles in more ways than one).

I was cranky. A Corona with lime would solve that problem! My last visit to Meehan’s was pre-concert with the Coopers. Among our group both B and J ordered the Tex-Mex ahi tuna tostadas. I tried one and they were so good, I knew what I was ordering on Sunday before we even parked the car and I don’t even like tuna.

LC ordered jumbo Buffalo wings and a draft beer. My tuna tostada appetizer featured thick slices of seared tuna atop corn and avocado salsa on teeny-tiny chips, each with a dollop of sour cream and Sriracha, arranged around a mound of field greens. Problem is, the serving is very small, only six chips for $12. The bites were, however, as good as I remembered….a little spicy, a little tangy. I could eat four plates, easily. Another Corona as The Falcons tried to make a comeback.

Wings, in a hot vinegar-based sauce, set our lips on fire, cooled off by the chunky blue cheese and celery. The presentation and flavor were right on.

The Falcons lost and we headed out in the beautiful Fall weather, just perfect for golf.

The promise of drunken comraderie is as much of a draw at ginormous sports bars as are the games. Taco Mac leads the way, with their extensive beer list, better than average bar food, plus tacos (naturally), and other Southwestern fare.

But the name belies the origin of this chain which originally began as a pub in the Virginia Highlands. A couple of guys from Buffalo, NY wanted to bring authentic Buffalo wings to Atlanta. Lacking funds, they chose a run-down taco stand, kept it’s original name, and soon customers were coming from all over town to try their famous wings.

Last Sunday me and ST met a couple of his buddies at the Taco Mac at The Prado for the Saints and Vikings playoff game. MT, the ladies man, and RC, the happily married nice guy.

After a treacherous drive in a torrential downpour, we were ready for a beer or three. Me and ST started off with Guinness. I always like to try something less pedestrian when there is an impressive selection like Taco Mac’s, so I ordered a Brooklyn Chocolate Stout. Served in a special glass, it was thick and rich with notes of coffee and chocolate.

And I was also ready for some food. Men love wings. Not sure why but they all do. Taco Mac serves seven flavors, from the mild Lemon Pepper to one simply called Death. MT, clearly a pussy, got some Lemon Pepper with his steak and onion rings, while the rest of us shared twenty pieces of the Three Mile Island, the fifth level of heat intensity. And hot they were! Cooled down with celery sticks dipped in chunky blue cheese dressing, these wings flew out of their basket, along with the thick and crispy onion rings.

It would simply be wrong to not get a couple of tacos at Taco Mac, right? I couldn’t resist the Los Cabos Fish Tacos since me and ST will be going there in July. Blackened tilapia with shredded lettuce, pico de gallo, and chipotle mayo were wrapped in soft flour tortillas. They were fishy. But the fries served with them were decent.

We washed it all down with multiple Miller Lites, Sierra Nevadas, and Heinekens as New Orleans continually matched Minnesota’s score, making for an exciting game. We left during the fourth quarter and I was sure we’d miss the end but when we got home, the score was 28 all in overtime. A 40 yard field goal decided the game, sending the Saints to the Superbowl.

There is something for everyone at Taco Mac including salads, burgers, burritos, wraps, and a kid’s menu. But you gotta get some wings! Next time, I’ll try Death.