Honey Pig - Duluth, GA (March 2012)

In my never-ending quest to visit as many of Atlanta's 50 Best Restaurants (according to Atlanta Magazine last summer), before a new list comes out, this week's adventure took me to the Honey Pig, in Duluth.   First off, I didn't have nearly the issues that I had with the language at Myong Ga Won so I definitely started from a better place.

After conferring with the waiter, I ordered Honey Pig Samgyupsal (the house special and eponymous dish), with an assortment of sides.  Had I been with someone, or likely demanded it, I could have had my meal cooked on an iron pan right here

at my table (Hibachi-style).  Because I was alone (and it would look fairly pathetic), the waiter asked me if he could prepare my meal in the kitchen. 

About 15 minutes later, two guys came out of the kitchen carrying plates and bowls and laid this all out before me:

Left to right, clockwise, starting with the obvious:

• White rice
• Bean paste, jalapenos and pepper paste *
• Green onions *
• Kimchi (spicy pickled cabbage) *
• What I swear they told me was cold kimchi soup
• Bean sprouts* 

* Re-reading the menu, I learned that these are, collectively, "seasonal Korean side dishes".

and

• Lettuce 
• Radish wraps, marinated in wasabi.  These deserved their own photo.  These things were nasty.   How can you make radishes take worse?  Apparently, you marinate them in wasabi...
• Sesame oil, and
• Honey Pig Samgyupsal - basically thick slices of grilled pork belly meat (uncured bacon)
  

After a few minutes of staring at all of this and studying my silverware (two really skinny steel chopsticks and a giant spoon - I now realize that seeing this combo on the table should be some type of harbinger), one of the servers came over and asked if I'd ever eaten there before.   I had no problem saying, "No", with a very straight face.  So he points at the lettuce, the radish wraps and the pork belly and says:

"Eat it like a burrito!"

Revelation!!  Sadly, my celebration was short-lived as with every bite, something fell out of the other end of my lettuce wrap.  So I did the next best thing.  I asked for another bowl of rice and more hot pepper paste, and ate two bowls of pork belly and rice, with hot pepper paste.   It was good, but a REALLY expensive lunch.   I don't know that I feel the need to go back, but it was a much better meal than my last attempt at Korean food.

Myung Ga Won - Duluth, GA (February 2012)

In one of the summer editions of Atlanta magazine, they named Myung Ga Won as one of the fifty best restaurants in Atlanta. One day last week, I was heading out to lunch alone and thought I'd give it a try.  Walking in was just like going into Moe's, except that everyone yelled at me in Korean. I've been  assuming it was "hello and welcome".....

The first thing I noted was that all of the patrons were Asian.  I always take that as a good sign.  I should have realized I was in trouble when this was my silverware:

The menu had big Korean characters, small English descriptions and pictures, but I couldn't make heads or tails of what I wanted. The second waitress was able to understand that I was clueless on the menu and made three recommendations by pointing at different combos. I chose what I have since found to be bibimbap, which was described as "meat, rice, vegetables, pepper paste", with salad and appetizers.

First to arrive were the five appetizers. I have now identified four - I didn't photo the fifth, but I can best describe it as looking like KFC cole slaw, without the orange flakes, and scooped out like ice cream. I chose not to try that. 

I knew I wouldn't like the broccoli, mainly because it was broccoli.

This one looked like the chicken from Mongolian chicken, but had the texture of tofu. One bite was enough. 

That one was kimchi. I've hated kimchi since my first encounter in the late 80s at Mirror of Korea, down town.

This one baffled me. I couldn't figure out the taste, but it most closely resembled the taste of dirt. 

I ended up with a third waitress trying to explain, who used a series of hand gestures (tree + making a small "o" from her thumb and index finger) to play a form of charades that ended up with the winning word - "acorn". It was acorn jello, which explains why it tasted like dirt. 

Then came the bibimbap. It was a 10" silver mixing bowl, with lettuce in the center, topped by a fried egg covered with sesame seeds, surrounded around the bowl by sliced mushrooms, sliced carrots, tofu, black noodles, ground something, cabbage, peppers and a couple of other things. Accompanied by a bowl of white rice and a cup of soup.

I tried to eat the beef + the rice + the sauce with the chopsticks and flung food over the place. The waitress, having pity upon me, walked over, made the universal sign of "need help, you dolt?" and took the bowl, the giant spoon, a squeezee bottle filled with spicy red sauce, and started mixing. She'd stir, squeeze in red sauce and repeat.

She handed me back a bowl full of rice with all kinds of stuff mixed into it. I'll have to confess, I picked out the fried egg and ate the rice.  

Then I drove through Wendy's for a wrap on the way back to the office.

No. 246, Decatur, GA (February, 2012)

Since July of last year, a lot of the local buzz has been about No. 246, the new offering from Ford Fry (from JCT) and Drew Belline (former chef de cuisine of Floataway Cafe).  It became the new "it" restaurant and when I read that they didn't accept reservations, I figured that we'd never get there. Today, after church, when I hit the Open Table app as we headed downtown, it came up as a possibility, so I grabbed a table for two.

The reservation wasn't necessary as the place was empty (see above).  The lunch menu had plenty of options, and after googling several things on the menu (cavolo nero - black kale / grana padano - cheese / porchetta - essentially, pork belly) we were ready to order.  Side question: don't you love, smart phones, google and wikipedia?  In the dark ages, you always had to ask the waiter.  Then he would pretentiously look down his nose and tell you that  "No, fennel does NOT taste like licorice" (he was wrong and Google, on a computer in the kitchen, finally convinced him of that) or whatever, not that I'm still bitter about that, or anything....


So Jo started with some fired toast with a spread made from cannelloni beans, braised cavolo nero, chilies and olive oil.  I sampled a piece and the strongest taste was of lemon.
   

I decided to try the no. 246 meatball with san marzano, basil and parmesan.  It was excellent.  Not dense, like cheap meatballs or meatloaf can be, but with a "lightness" about it and wonderful seasoning from the tomatoes and cheese.

Jo ordered the north georgia trout, cooked with asparagus, garlic, cherry belle radish, dill and lemon

She said that the fish was excellent, and from the bite that I had, I would have to agree.  She also said that the cherry belle radishes were very un-radish-like, nowhere near as bitter as usual red radishes.   She shared one of those with me, I'll agree they were an improvement:  while I usually HATE radishes, I just didn't like these.

Because I'm always leaning towards a burger, I talked to the waiter about theirs.  Without telling me it wasn't a good choice, he said that of the three sandwiches, it was the least memorable and that I really ought to consider the "plates".  

So I ordered the shrimp - pan seared with parmesan polenta, garlic, local greens and  tomatoes.  This was, effectively, their take on shrimp and grits.  I'm a huge S&G fan and these did not disappoint.  The polenta and cheese mix was spot-on and it was decadently tasteful.  I actually sat there, with my eyes closed, savoring several bites.   They seem to be on the same tack as Miller Union and Cakes and Ale, as far as the local sourcing-fresh ingredients.   We'll definitely plan to head back one evening.

Fred's Bar-B-Q House, Inc - Austell, GA (February 2012)

Over the course of my life, I've eaten at the Bar-B-Q House dozens of time, and I honestly don't think I've ever eaten their barbecue. When I was kid, my dad took me to the Bar-B-Q House for "yellow jacket" hot dogs.  For barbecue, we always went to Wallace's.  If you've ever eaten at Wallace's, you'll understand why I grew up NOT liking barbecue.  

So, how did yellow jacket hot dogs end up in Austell?  I've heard half a dozen versions of this story over my life.  The top two, in my humble opinion:

Story One: there used to be another drive-in near the Georgia Tech campus, in competition with the Varsity, called the Yellow Jacket.   One day (early 1960s), the owner closed for vacation (put a note on the door that said "gone fishin') and never re-opened, supposedly bought-out by the Gordy family. 

Story Two: Fred, of Fred's Bar-B-Q House, somehow ended up with the chili recipe for the yellow jacket hot dog and took it to the exotic locale of Austell. 

Either way, Fred's is about two miles north of I-20 on Thornton Road and looks like any roadside barbecue shack anywhere in the South.

When you go inside, they have basic counter service, full of barbecue items, but prominently featuring things covered with chili.  The "delicious" fried pies?  Fair, and very similar to those at the Varsity. 

I consider myself, with thirty years of experience under my belt, as something of a Chili Dog connoisseur.   I love the dogs at the Varsity - they're classic Atlanta fast food.  I'm a huge fan of the dogs at Martin's - they're really good.  (Truthfully, one of the best things about the dogs from Martin's is that they also serve an incredible fried chicken sandwich.  You can get an "almost-Varsity" dog and an "almost-Chick-fil-A" chicken sandwich at the SAME TIME!  

This picture was taken pre-mustard.   (Weird note:  I hate mustard.  I prefer mayonnaise on sandwiches, and I order my burgers without it.  But mustard and ketchup is the perfect condiment combination on a chili dog.)  The bun is sturdy enough to toast perfectly and the chili is just the right mix of mild and spicy.

I honestly believe that the Chili Dogs at the Bar-B-Q House are the best in Atlanta.   If you like a good chili dog, you owe it to yourself to try one.

(And you have to appreciate a restaurant with a sense of humor.  There t-shirts say "You Can Smell Our Butts for Miles" on the back.   That's just funny.)

Ginopolis' Bar-B-Q - Farmington Hills, MI (December, 2011)

So, here it is a cool December day and I'm driving into our Detroit office for an afternoon meeting and I see this sign:

"World's Greatest Ribs"?  Challenge accepted!  I know when I think of the centers of the rib universe, Michigan jumps right to the top of the list.....

So, I get inside and the first thing I notice on the menu is that they serve the "World Famous Montgomery Inn Ribs" (as endorsed by Bob Hope!), shipped directly from Cincinnati, Ohio.   Let me get this right:  This place has the world's greatest ribs and they don't even make them themselves?  

I figure since I've already parked, and it is cold outside, that I'll stick around and check them out.   So I order a rack and wait.   While I'm waiting I notice the array of barbecue sauces that lie before me:

Any time that I see this many choices of sauce that there will potentially be something wrong with the barbecue. (spoiler alert).  While I'm waiting, I sample them all.  The winners (in case you're ever at Ginopolis')?  Hickory and Brown Sugar and Sweet Chili.   The ribs come with two sides.  Since I ordered this meal two months before I wrote this review, I can't remember why I had three sides.  Cole slaw (which I wouldn't have ordered if it was a choice), macaroni and cheese (which was common, but tasty) and an odd black-eyed peas with some carrots (?) and peppers in it.  The ribs, themselves:

From the picture, you can guess for yourself.  Pretty bad.  They lied.

Chicken and the Egg, Marietta, GA (November, 2011)

One Sunday, after church, we were looking for some place new to eat.   As we're pulling out of the parking lot, I hit Open Table and searched for places nearby and took a look.  Up popped Chicken and the Egg, near the square in Marietta.  We read the reviews and decided to give it a try.  

Their premise is "Modern Farmstead Fare".  Apparently, every new Southern retauranteur's grandmother (regardless of their place of birth - Atlanta, GA, Jackson, MS or Long Island, NY) served pimiento cheese and deviled eggs at all dinners.  They're on EVERY menu.  So we started with the pimiento cheese to see how it stacked up.

Fairly well.  Not as good as that as Rosebud (in Morningside) or Local 3 (kind of in Buckhead) - my current favorites - but very tasty.   We (technically, I) emptied the jelly jar.

Jo ordered the Farm House Burger - house ground beef, fried egg, Nueske's bacon - with fries and said it was good.  

In case you aren't familiar with Nueske's bacon, it is mighty good stuff.  Apple wood smoked and cured with love.   Mmmmmm.


I believe the true test of the caliber of a southern cook is in their ability to properly fry chicken.  You'd think that a place with such a fowl name would prominently feature their chicken.  So I ordered the fried chicken with mac-n-cheese and green beans.   On a side note, ordering the green beans was a challenge - I was trying to determine how they were cooked (French-style? Slow-cooked?) and couldn't seem to get the waiter to understand my question.

When my meal arrived, the beans were indeed Southern style.  The mac-n-cheese was fresh.  And the fried chicken was good.  Not great, but good.  I'd go back and eat there again, but don't feel the need to have the fried chicken again.

Big Pie in the Sky Pizzeria, Kennesaw, GA (November 2011)

When I first saw Man Versus Food, I thought, "Adam Richman is the kind of guy that I'd like to hang out with" (yes, I know that I shouldn't have ended a sentence with a preposition, but I didn't honestly think "the kind of guy with whom I'd like to hang out" at the time, and I feel that truth is needed).   In the first few episodes, he journeyed to Atlanta.  One of his stops was Big Pie in the Sky Pizzeria.  He was there for the Carnivore Challenge, in which two "contestants" attempt to eat a 30-inch, 11 pound meat-lovers pizza.  The entry fee is $50.  If you clean the pizza pan, without throwing up, in 60 minutes or less you win $250. 

We didn't go for the challenge, we went with the Coolest Journey Group Ever on the Monday after Thanksgiving.   For perspective, before you look at this picture, Tony and I are both good sized men.   So, we ordered the 30 inch, extra-large (they only have medium, large and extra-large) - one half veggie / one half meat lovers, for six of us.

So we ate.

And ate.

And ate.

And ate.

And when we were done, we had enough pizza left to fill a Domino's large pizza box.  I don't know how in the world two people could do this.  From the info on the web site, it looks like three teams have completed the challenge.

How was the pizza?  It was fine.  Slightly better than fine.  I can only imagine how challenging it is to cook 706 square inches of pizza and get it done.  They cooked it perfectly well, but I've had a lot better pizza.

(We did have a really good time, though.)