Aria, Atlanta, GA (April 2012)

Over the last several years, Aria has kind of faded from the limelight of Atlanta dining.  Not because of a degradation of service or a decline in the quality of the food, but due to the overwhelming number of restaurants in Atlanta.  Maybe it was the change in the dining scene focus to New Southern (then to tapas, then to house-cured meats, then to food trucks, then....), but last August, Atlanta Magazine named the city's fifty best restaurants.  It was then that we (that should really be an "I", but I blame Jo also) made it a goal to get to all of them that we could. Aria made Atlanta Magazine's list, a list in which they ranked the first ten, and then listed the others, coming in at number nine.  Our visit to Aria took us over the fifty percent mark.

When we arrived, our entrance was the first challenge.  From the bright outside, into a dark interior with a step down that you couldn't see, almost had me falling into the maitre' d's stand. That obstacle conquered, we were led to our table.  Second challenge - the interior has my least favorite type of seating - tables against a wall with banquet seating on one side and chairs on the other.  This always leads to a situation for me: my table is inevitably too close to my neighbors; and I can't carry on a conversation comfortably because I feel like I am sitting at a table with strangers.  This night, to my left, was a mother and daughter.  Tidbits of their conversation:

"He took them to California? That's the WORST place he could have taken them."

"We know a lawyer there. She's actually a Federal attorney..."

"Mom - you know I can't make it for dinner at 3:30. It's a four hour drive from Savannah and I don't want to have to get up too early..."

"Do you want one of these scallop. Because you are going to share that spare rib, aren't you?"

The highlight - when it was time for desserts, the daughter ordered white chocolate martinis for both of them. Three minutes later the server returned with the news that they only had enough white chocolate for one martini. Three second pause.  "Okay, mom. What do YOU want?"

On to the food. Looking at the appetizers, nothing really lit my fire. There wasn't anything that I really "liked" - asparagus soup, seared foie gras, potato and goat cheese ravioli (the server said the ravioli was heavy on the asparagus), lobster cocktail, flash fried oysters and crab cakes. And four salads. Nothing thrilled me, so I ordered the scallops. 

I'm not a huge scallop fan.   That's a roma tomato in the middle, on a bed of spinach with madras curry, cilantro and lime.  Once, I was blown away by a scallop (at the Woodfire Grill - I swear they could have served me tennis shoe and they would have made it taste good), but most of the time they're just okay.  This was better than okay, but it wasn't anything I'd order again.

Jo went with the beet salad.

She was kind enough to share. Still tasted like beets to me, but she said it was very good.

Jo went with the sole with roasted cauliflower, potatoes, mushrooms and fiddleheads (yep, fern parts).   The fish was crispy around the edges and firm, yet flaky. Covered with capers in brown butter, with a tarragon and lemon sauce.

The server said that the spare ribs were one of the chef's specialties, so I went with that.  It was a single spare rib, served off the bone, topped with pickled ramps and trumpet mushrooms and served with whipped potatoes and a white corn and lady pea mix.  

I've always been the kind of guy that ate his way around the plate, one item at a time.  Always avoided casseroles and mixed vegetables, to the point of wishing that all of my meals were served on those quartered plates like we had in elementary school.  But in the last ten years, I've branched out and begin to eat crazily.  Salads.  Peas and mashed potatoes at the same time.  The spare rib was very good, but the real taste wonder was the mix of everything on the plate.   


It was our "big night out" and it was good.  I don't know that I'll rush back, but I'd recommend it to someone looking for a good Buckhead dinner spot.

Pollos Asados Rio Grande, Odessa, TX (March 26, 2012)

As I was waiting outside Watt's Burger, I noticed the constant flow of traffic at Pollos Asados Rio Grande.  Roughly twenty cars in twenty minutes.   And since a) my burger was nothing to write home about (or to both of y'all about), b) I had two hours plus before my flight back through Dallas and c) I wouldn't be back this way in at least three months, I ought to give it a try.

The drive-thru at this place was hopping.  I decided to go inside.   The interior was all kitchen and grill.  In front of the counter, which seated three, next to the register, there was a high top shoved against one wall.   Inside seating for six at best.  There were two guys at the high top when I got there, so I sat at the counter.   

The menu was fairly simple.  Well, as simple as a Spanish menu can be, but it had REALLY big pictures.  I went with the grilled chicken.  It was served in a carry-out box with rice, beans, tortillas, lime and two kinds of sauce.  

The photo above is after I prepared my plate.  Note the Manzana Lift behind the container.  Manzana Lift is an apple-flavored carbonated drink from the Coca-Cola company that is only produced in Latin America.   But with "Mexican" Coke (produced with cane sugar instead of corn syrup) being all the rage, apparently you can get other Latin American drinks in some parts of the US.   We had it the first time in the Dominican Republic several years ago and have been looking for it, on and off, ever since, in the States.

The Manzana alone made the meal a winner.  The chicken had a hint of lime and was moist, despite being grilled.   I understand why there was a line - this would be some great chicken to carry home.

Kyma, Atlanta, GA (March 31, 2012)

To close out March, we went with good friends to Kyma.  We had an early (6:15) reservation and as we arrived they took us straight to our table.  The place was fairly empty, but it filled up to about 75% of capacity during our visit. I love when you're at a restaurant where the waiter pays attention.  As he comes to the table, he greets us, "Hello, Mr. Willoughby.  How are you all this evening?"

He explained the menu, made a few recommendations and left us to make some decisions.  Two of the menu choices were "tastings", one comprised of spreads + pita pieces and "mezes" (appetizers), the other tasting menu included the spreads, mezes and added fish.  Once we decided whether or not we could manage to agree on everything (and order for "the table") our first decision was whether or not we wanted a fish and what that would be.   It wasn't too long of a process, but we decided on lavreki (European Sea Bass).  More about that later.  We decided that there was one of the four spreads that none of wanted, so that decison was easy.  And it included four appetizers.  Four of us, four choices - this was going to work out well.

We started with the spreads. Roasted red peppers and feta (htipiti), something with yogurt, cucumber and dill (tzatziki sauce) and potato, garlic and olive oil (skordalia). I was partial to the red pepper and potato based ones, but we managed to clean 5 of the 6 containers.

The waiter had sold the octopus pretty highly, saying that it was the thing for which they were best known.  We discussed whether or not they still had the "suckers" on them and Yanni said that they shaved off the suckers.  (Can you imagine being the guy that has that job? We decided he was obviously the most recently hired....)  Don chose the octopus.

The octopus came to the table first, with one crispy tentacle on top.  Surprisingly, the larger pieces had the texture of chicken with a taste that was a cross between chicken and tuna.  It was actually pretty good - we finished most all of it.

Next out to the table was my choice. Since there were four of us, we actually got two servings of each meze.  I had been ready to order the pan fried kefalograveria cheese (saganaki), but Jo had changed her mind at the last minute, away from the herb crusted ahi tuna (after she and the waiter discussed the "rareness" of the tuna and he said that it was sushi-grade and best served rare).

I was now torn. But Yanni came thru, again, and said that the cheese was pretty strong and suggested that we "split" that meze between the cheese

and the herb-crusted ahi tuna.  The tuna was served on a bed of pickled mushrooms.  It was closer to "raw" than "rare", but mighty tasty.

Tina decided on the horiatiki, a summer summer salad of tomato, cucumber, red onions, peppers and a huge wedge of feta.  The tomatoes were the best tomatoes that I've had yet this year.  We asked from where they came, and found they were from Mr. Fresh in Florida.

(The lighting was just dark enough to make good photos elusive.)

And Jo went with the beet salad (oven roasted beets, butter roasted walnuts, manouri cheese and beet sorbet).

Aside from the octopus, the beet salad was the surprise hit of the table, primarily because of the beet sorbet.  It still tasted like beets to me.

Then came the fish

They showed us the fish, then took it back and prepared our plates.  The fish was served with capers and braised kale - one of the four plates had more than a bite of kale taken (and it was the beet culprit).

We had decided that we were going for gelato so we were going to bypass dessert, but we had mentioned that it was Mrs. Martin's birthday, so they brought a surprise to the table.   It was pistachio ice cream and some sort of baklava.  Even though we didn't want dessert, they cleaned the plate.

Collectively, we commented on the quality of the food and the exceptional service.  It was definitely a "big night out", but we would not hesitate to go back.

Woody's Famous Philadelphia Cheesesteaks - Atlanta, GA (March,2012)

So for about the last four or five years, I've driven by this giant sign for Woody's Famous Philadelphia Cheesesteaks on Monroe Drive and told myself, "Self, you've got to get one of those cheesesteaks." But every time that I drove by there (mostly on Thursdays, mostly between 7:00 and 8:00 pm), it was closed. The more times that I couldn't have this sandwich, the better I imagined it would be. So after hundreds of weeks, this cheesesteak had grown into a thing of culinary wonder. 

And then, the magic day finally dawned. I had been to the old time jam at Manuel's and was heading bank towards the Druid Hills area and I saw Woody's looming through the windshield - and the open sign was lit. [Trumpets blare] I tried three of their mini-parking lots before I finally found a space, but eventually saw one behind the giant sign.

From my table, on the porch

I went inside the screened in porch in front of the counter / window, which serves as indoor seating, and perused the menu. Cheesesteak. Turkey cheesesteak. Add mushrooms or peppers. Grilled sausage. Fat Dog Lay's chips. Drinks. And Jake's Ice Cream (this is a good thing to know. Jake's used to have 4 or 5 stores around town, but I thought they were down to the single location on Irwin. Good to know there's a back up, although the hours seem even odder.)

I decided on a simple cheesesteak, no onions. Gave the young man my name, found a seat on the wrap-around porch and waited. About ten minutes later I heard him call my name and went and grabbed my sandwich, wrapped in white butcher paper.

I'd been waiting five years to unwrap this sandwich, so I did so with great expectation. 

I took a bite   -   "Nyeeh"

Took another   -   "Kind of dry"

And a third   -   "Mediocre"

I guess good things don't always come to those who wait....

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.)

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.)