FoodieBuddha.com

Okay gang, this is really just a teaser post to get your whistles wet.  The details are this: a well-known NYC foodie hit town this week and that has been confirmed by at least four people in one form or another.  He’s been cavorting around town with at least one of the more respected members of the ATL food community, so I’m pretty sure this will go public soon.  Rest assured, when it does, I’ll be sure to point ya’ll in the right direction (though I doubt that will be necessary).  The food in question includes, but may not be limited to, our now hot-button pizza joints.  How cool is it that NYC is coming to Atlanta for pizza?  Say what you will about this whole hub-bub, it’s pretty cool to hear about something like this.

BTW, I stole the photo above from Eat It Atlanta because his pizza days series rocked!  Go check it out.

In case you haven’t heard, we’re in a recession.  Okay, after dropping that shocking nugget of the obvious on you, we have some interesting findings to discuss.  Yesterday, Thomas Minchella, the executive chef at McKendrick’s Steakhouse, linked (via twitter) to a very interesting article from entrepreneur.com.

Amongst other things, the article includes discussions with a number of restaurateurs who have shown balls of steel the past year and change.  I’m not 100% sure I agree with the idea as a whole.  Certainly, the recent activity in the ATL seams to support the authors premise.  Ultimately, regardless of the economy, the best time to open a restaurant is when you are ready.  There are no shortage of successful food stops in the city … however … there are no shortage of those closing up shop.  The cream always rises to the top!

Does this really need an explanation in awesome?  I think not!

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It’s amazing to me just how many of my favorite meals are the consequence of haphazard circumstance.  Such is the case with my recent trip to Desta, a popular Ethiopian restaurant located near the intersection of Briarcliff and Clairmont.  While Desta has a much more vibrant following than a place like Celia’s [you’ve all been … right?], that fact alone did not make this trip any less of a surprise.  Tasked with the role of choosing a restaurant for a follow up to the night’s earlier Linner, I managed to pull Desta out of thin air.  Luckily, Ms. Vennerable [sic] is a fairly adventurous eater and an avid fan of all things Ethiopian.

There’s a reason why I haven’t talked a lot about the dozen or so Ethiopian eateries in and around the metro-Atlanta area.  In my three or four experiences with the indigenous African fare, I have found the food to be passable at best (the word barftastic comes to mind).  Mind you, not a single one of these meals has taken place in the last three-years and none of them at a location anywhere close to the state we all know as Georgia.

As with most every regional cuisine, there is a deep and rich history behind Ethiopian food.  It’s one I am in no position to comment on.  So not only have I had bad run-ins with it, but the situation is exacerbated by my ignorance.  Still, I think this position actually works in our favor.  While there is something to be said for my rantings that are backed by a more substantial knowledge base, there is something charming in my ignorance.  If you’re still with me, it is a safe bet that when most people are asked to rattle off their favorite cuisines, Ethiopian is probably mentioned more in jest than as a serious response.

Off-color humor aside, I relished in the ability to walk into a place with little more than a cursory knowledge of the food and simply just taste.  As luck would have it, the reputation behind Desta seems to be earned.  Perhaps your experience will mimic mine.

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I’m starting to think that I should do most of my writing after the witching hour … it’s amazing what you see late at night.  As I ho-hum here and poke around the net, this tweet showed up in my twitter feed.  My goodness, maybe twitter isn’t completely useless.  For those of you who don’t want to do a lot of click hunting … here’s what all that translates to.

Todd Mussman, the former in the tagline Muss & Turner’s, has been called into action at Grindhouse Burgers in Downtown’s Sweet Auburn Curb Market.  With the help of Grindhouse’s owner Alex Brounstein, Mussman will be chopping up an entire lamb for your viewing and educational pleasure.

Full details are available here, but the short of the long comes after the jump!

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If you don’t know that most anything can be proven in a study, now is the time to realize that seemingly absolute truth.  Keeping that in mind, I do love it when people basically stick a fork in some popular ideology, belief system, or movement.  The latest group to do this is a team of researchers from Victoria University in New Zealand.  The topic at hand: sustainability.  Sustainability extends well beyond the themes of farming and food and into everyday life.  However, food culture is a huge portion of the sustainability movement.

The study, conducted by professors Brenda and Robert Vale and published in the New Scientist, says that the eco-pawprint (cute – but not mine) of a dog is roughly equivalent to that of a Toyota Land Cruiser driven 12,500 miles in a calendar year.  There are many more interesting tidbits pointed out in the article I read, which is a summary of the Vales book entitled Time to Eat the Dog: The real guide to sustainable living.  So all you sustainable people – say goodbye to Rover and replace him with Clucky, the family chicken.

Now there are PLENTY of legitimate contrarian points to this angle; however, I just think it’s important to show people that there are two sides to every story.  Don’t get caught up in the PC friendly subculture without first understanding the scope of the problem at hand.  And oh yeah – sustainability has real benefits.  Alright … discuss

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We all look for the next big thing.  Be it cupcakes, be it burgers, be it pizza … it’s all good in our world.  We also look for the next big place … there was H&F, there was Flip, now there is Antico.  Well, get ready ladies and gentleman … we have a new entrant onto this list of what’s hot in the A.  Look no further than the one and only Piedmont Hospital and their Piedmont Dining service.

Entrance into this culinary cavern is hard.  To get in, I suggest employing a rubber hammer, walking into a door, or getting a hold of some other utensil that will do just enough damage to put you down, but not out.  Seating is also hard to come by.  Most of the spots comes in the form of soft, horizontally laid out resting jobs.  I think the technical term for them is “bed.”  Many rooms are tabled for two; however, you also have private dining halls all to yourself.  Particularly generous guests might extend an invitation to this club … and if that’s the case, you can squeeze in a couple of seating apparatus’ complete with four legs and a back.  Naturally, your guest can order to their hearts delight.

While edible goodness isn’t available 24-hours, you can get your fix in anytime between 6a-10p and without having to lift more than a finger!  Ordering isn’t more than a phone call away, and your food is delivered to you by a well dressed server, complete with a smile, and a friendly “Hi, how are you doing today?”

It gets better… can you think of any other restaurant that will tailor the menu to your needs? I think not.  Consequently, you get a menu full of options that may interest you.  Particular highlights included the grits, which came out creamy and full of flavor (Seriously people –these would satisfy anyone visiting a breakfast joint!).  Chicken? You want chicken? Well, sorry – but no rubber renditions here.  The char-grilled Southwestern fowl will transport you to the farthest reaches of the Mojave.  Entrée salads (including Island Caribbean Chicken), and a full bevy of grilled items (burgers of any sort), and deli sandwiches are all also available make you yearn for a hospital gown all your own (aerated in the back for his and her pleasure).

In my week long dining foray, it was nice to get a touch of class available to all the guests of this classy restaurant.  I sure hope you don’t have to visit, but if you do – rest assured that the food will be the least of your worries.  Cheers ya’ll!

Those of you who are New York imports, well-traveled globe trotters, or avid foodies will know the name Milk & Honey.  With locations in NYC and London, the membership suggested cocktail lounge is highly regarded as the anti-trend.  To put it another way: while name dropping and starfucking can go a long way in certain establishments, it will get you the door at M&H.  For a while, people didn’t even know where it was.  I call it “elitism for the everyman.”  Why do I bring this up?

Well, word around the campfire is that restaurateur Warren Bruno, the man behind Atkins Park and Aunt Charley’s, is ready to bring at least some elements of Milk & Honey to the Dirty South.  Details are hush hush right now, and I’m not so sure just how much Milk & Honey to expect out of the place … so I won’t give away the whole kit and kaboodle right now.  Besides, what’s the fun in that?  However, I will show you the door and tell you that construction is coming along nicely.  The intended “laid back atmosphere” will include some grub, some libations, some bocce ball, and a few other treats.  It’s over on the Westside, and I’ll at least let you know if it’s actually headed down the route of M&H once it finally opens.  I’m sure we’ll all find out soon enough if things like a membership card or just a drivers license are needed for access to Atlanta’s land of milk and honey.  Oh yeah … dates and what not.  Well, I’ve heard everything from the first few days of November into the middle of the month.

If you don’t live in Decatur, there is a good chance that Mezcalito’s Cantina is one of those restaurants you can go a lifetime without trying.  In fact, I have driven by this Oakhurst restaurant more times than I can remember; yet, I have never entered its glass doors.  Though it doesn’t get a lot of attention outside 30030, the restaurant has had its share of media coups and remains a popular destination for nearby chicas y hombres craving some Mexican food.

In its previous life, Mezcalito’s operated under the name Billy Goat’s Cantina.  Having never visited before the other night, I don’t have any good information on the background of the restaurant or the name change. Whatever the case, Mezcalito’s finds itself near the restaurant-centric intersection of East Lake Dr. and Oakview road (aka Oakhurst Square).  Inside that two to three block area, Universal Joint and Saba seem to get the most attention.  However, all the restaurants there seem to draw a crowd and you’ll even find a Tex-Mex alternative to Mezcalito’s in the nearby Matador Cantina.

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Ah Riccardo and my dear sweet Lupe Taqueria.  Situated right on Juniper Street in Midtown, I wanted so badly to enjoy your company, to appreciate your culinary statement, and your bubbling atmosphere.  Alas, it was not to be.  What you gave me was a failure of Titanic proportions.  In the blink of an eye you went from a place with so much promise to a dark sea struggling to provide me with the life jacket I so desperately needed.  The waters were murky, and that’s being more than generous.

Before I head on down this path of destruction, let us take a quick detour to clarify something for those of you who are not familiar with this blog.  First impressions should be considered for what they are.  It is absolutely impossible to consider a single meal, and particularly one that takes place inside of a restaurant’s IPO week, and proclaim the establishment a failure with any degree of certainty.  However, certain elements of the meal can hint at what is to come.

I am often called to task for my propensity to hold an establishment’s feet to the fire no matter how long they are open.  I’m particularly less forgiving in instances where the owner is an established restaurateur.

In that spirit, if people are willing to proclaim Antico as God’s gift to Atlanta’s pizza scene inside of one slice, then we have to be willing to consider all establishments against some reasonably similar criteria.  Put it this way, for every Matt Ryan, there are many more Ryan Leafs.  Unless some serious soul searching takes place, Lupe Taqueria will be headed to the dead pool faster than you can say “guacamole.”

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