People often say that bloggers, critics, and the like get the most pleasure from writing a scathing note.  While I can’t speak for the rest of them, I’ll tell you that this guy gets the most joy out of recapping an impromptu meal that was anything but expected.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does … you’ll find me smiling wider than the Cheshire Cat.

That smile hit me during a little excursion to Norcross.  Thanks to the predictably unpredictable Atlanta traffic, I found myself twiddling my thumbs while my dinner buddy battled the bumper to bumper.  Idle hands, being what they are, led me to go for a stroll in the Merchants Square Shopping Center that housed our destination.

Seeing as the strip was peppered with a mix of eateries, and I was armed with a Titanic sized appetite, it was time to be productive.  I decided a snack was in order.  The stroll actually took me the length of the walkway; it seemed nearly every place that peaked piqued [THANKS DG!] my interest was either closed for dinner or closed for good.  Still, I kept walking, and whether it was a consequence of fate or the dumb luck of free will, I ended up circling around the back of the center only to find a Mexican supermarket.  Celia’s, with a demonstrative sign and quirky sombrero incorporated into the logo, was it.

A walk inside Celia’s might elicit any number of reactions depending on the person at hand.  If you are only comfortable at a slick backed Buckhead grocery store, you might feel out of place.  If you are the adventurous newbie, your eyes might get all googly.  Meanwhile, if you are a frequenter of the plethora of “ethnic” groceries in the area, you’ll feel right at home.  While the main attraction for me ended up being the forthcoming meals (yes – that’s right … there were two of them), I was particularly drawn to the carnicería, aka butcher’s shop, in the back and the visually intricate stash of baked goods, all of which were prepared on site.

Meal 1:

The menu is an extensive but not overwhelming selection of traditional Mexican items.  In addition to the seemingly necessary tacos, burritos, quesadillas, and nachos, there were selections of gorditas, sopes, tortas, and a some platillos.  I was also intrigued by the weekend specials and something called a sincronizada (more on that in a bit).  Unfortunately, time was of the essence so I made a beeline for two items that wouldn’t fill me up: an asada taco and an al pastor taco.

During my wait, the server, who was more than capable with her English, showed up with a multi-bowled tray that housed guacamole, two types of salsa, and some pico.  All of them were vibrantly fresh.  The pico and one of the salsas had a noticeable kick that displayed the skilled use of a number of peppers.  The acids wrapped around the diced tomatoes to provide your tongue with a spicy coolness that was much appreciated.

As I waited, I decided to play with my camera.  Mind you, I’m taking pictures of my hand, the napkin holder, and my foot.  At this point, some employee, whose was fluent in English, snapped at me for taking pictures.  It bares noting that if you run into him again and get some bad service, I wouldn’t be surprised.  Still, after telling him I had no intention of stopping … he groveled to himself and went back to chatting with his compadres sitting next to him.  I just don’t get some people …

Not a minute or two later, I was presented with an enticing plate holding two fresh tortillas, my toppings of choice, a stack of grilled onions, and a warmed pepper just daring me to eat it (boy it was good!).  First up was the asada.  Along with the accompanying diced onions and cilantro, it really popped.  The slivers of steak were well seasoned and spongy to the bite.  That is, the juice came out.  I mixed and match each bite with a sampling from the tray, and really found the acids here a welcomed addition.

Next I dove into the al pastor, which I had ordered after seeing it on the spit that was next to the grill.  The marinade was very tasty and the use of adobo was distinct and appropriate. In what was surely a move of critical cynicism, I noticed that the pastor was just slightly overcooked … and I do mean slightly.  Considering that was my biggest complaint … that’s not bad.  In addition, the raw onions were intense and were the predominant flavor of the aftertaste.  Certainly not ideal, but not a true detriment either.

The most impressive aspect of the meal was the tortillas.  These soft white maize tortillas were probably the best I’ve found to date in this area.  Relative to many nearby taquerias, I found these texturally superior and dotted with just the right amount of lime.

In what was surely no more than 60-seconds … the tacos were history.  I was presented with my check, at which point my eyes popped: A bottle of water (with a store label nonetheless), and the two tacos ran me roughly $3.50.  Holy molly batman!

Meal 2:

With my taste buds satiated, I stepped out into the bright sun of the early evening and strolled back to my car.  My dinner buddy showed up some half an hour later, and here’s where it gets interesting.  The destination of choice was in the process of closing early, so we were stumped on what to do.  After explaining what I did with my time, it seemed only to easy to walk back over to Celia’s … so that’s what we did.

Without the burden of ordering light, we got serious.  Order up of 2 chorizo tacos, 2 barbacoa gorditas, and 1 small sincronizada (humorously identified as sall on the wall menu – typos abound).  Par for the course – the chorizo taco was very very good.  Though the onions made their return and the tortillas were top notch, I really appreciated this version of chorizo.  It’s a meat with a lot of history and a number of variations in preparation.  Here the meat seemed to act almost like shredded hamburger meat.  The little chunks mixed with thin slivers to create a very interesting texture.  It was not unlike the experience I had with a taco truck in San Diego some years ago – and that’s a good thing.

Meanwhile, the barbacoa gordita was nothing but deliciously fried goodness topped with shredded queso, fresh lettuce, and beautiful chunks of “out of the rind” avocado.  The meat had been slow cooked ever so carefully and the crunch of the fried tortilla and the freshness of the rest made this sucker go down oh so smooth.

Last, but not least, was the sincronizada.  This little gem was not only new to me, but also to my companion.  Sincronizadas, as it turns out, are kinda like quesadillas turned sandwich.  However, they don’t rely on flour tortillas are made from wheat flour and the meat is sandwiched in between.  Ours came with barbacoa in the interior and the fixings on the top.  The included crema and fresh avocados really brought this one home.  If you venture up to Norcross to visit Celia’s, get one of these.

As before, the food was mowed down with professional precision.  However, we took our time chatting after the meal and then requested our check.  As before, it was mind boggling inexpensive.  The five food items and two bottles of Jarritos came to a stupifying $14.66!  Holy taco batman!

//////////////////////

There is actually a lot more to say about this place, but I’ll let ya’ll get on with your day.  The onsite baked goods seem destination worthy as my companion ogled them for several minutes.  A baking expert, she took the time to explain all the different examples she saw.  Definitely worth a gamble … even for those of us who dig our salt.

I also think it’s particularly cool that when the kitchen is in short supply, the cook will disappear into the store and return with the necessary ingredients.

Meanwhile, these meals easily bested anything I’ve ever had at foodie favorites like Taqueria El Rey Del Taco, or Taqueria Los Hermanos.  I actually have been advised as to a handful of Taquerias in and around the city.  Though I wouldn’t be surprised to find a better taco in Atlanta, and this didn’t quite capture my heart like some of the taco stands in Mexico or some of my stops in SoCal, Celia’s definitely impressed.  Even if I find those places I have to visit superior in quality, I get the feeling that if someone told me that these were their favorite tacos in the city, I don’t think I’d be able to fault them.

While it stopped short of culinary perfection, it ranks right up there in coolness factor and great food.  Don’t confuse authentic with good, but in this case, they are synonymous. If this wasn’t the very definition of a great find, I don’t know what is.

Celia’s Carniceria y Supermercado Restaurant Address & Information

4664 Jimmy Carter Blvd, Norcross, GA‎ // 770.806.0108‎

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I was apprehensive to say the least.  High-brow, underground supper clubs strike a strange cord with me.  On the one hand, it’s kind of cool to hit up a private event that requires a trip to the piggy bank.  On the other hand, there is something snob-elitish about events that come with a $150 price tag, all white garb, and a super secret location (as this one did).  Mind you, supper clubs come in all shapes and sizes.  However, this one clearly went the way of “deep thoughts … by F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

Atlanta has it’s fair share of private dining events and one such purveyor of said events is a woman by the name Jenny Levison.  Known around these parts as “Souper Jenny,” there is a Buckhead sandwich shop which bares that moniker.  Jenny’s shop is a warm and friendly place, and that led me to believe that my fears would be quashed when the event rolled around.  In addition, I hear that entry into one of these seatings [sic] is as hard to come by as a golden ticket into Wonka-ville.  However, that’s due to demand, and not any pretense.  As it follows, when the opportunity to attend one of these events presented itself, I jumped.  It was an evening of firsts, and the experience is worth a recap.

As a note, I will make it a point to abandon the long winded nature of my recent reviews … however … this meal (as those I just referred to) deserves my fullest attention).  At least read the last paragraph!

Information dripped in.  First up, the invite gave you the date, the price tag, and the requisite dress code.  There was no indication as to the location or the food slinger.  I groveled a bit … after all, I’m not well equipped in the white pants department (I still love ya Souper J – but couldn’t we have just gone with khaki pants???).

Less than 24-hours to kick off and finally we get the location: The Duck Pond, a private park in the 30305.  Still … no word on the meat slinger.

What possessed Katie to drag me along is a mystery unto itself.  Regardless, I wasn’t gonna give her the chance to come to her senses.  In what turned out to offer a bit of foreshadowing, I thought it appropriate that we hit up nearby Holeman & Finch for some apéritifs.  I think it’s safe to say that I’m like a fly on the wall at H&F; however, I almost always make this the end of the night stop.

Down went the booze and out the door we shuffled (looking like we were on our way to a funeral with a sick sense of humor).  As we got to the door, H&F super gal (and part-owner) Regan stopped us.  Something was up, and I should have known.  Still, we made it out the door with me unable to fit the pieces together.

A short drive up the road, we arrived at the Duck Pond as one of the last to arrive.  We were pleasantly greeted and finally, the cat was let out the bag.  The man in spectacles was none other than Linton Hopkins … DAMN YOU REGAN!!!!   My teeth pushed through and the little bit of tension that remained did a Usain Bolt (only to be reeled back in moments later).  I was shocked to see that Jenny had wrangled this guy away from Restaurant Eugene on a Saturday night.

While I still think some Khaki’s would have worked, I appreciate what Jenny was doing.  Four tables were neatly laid out on a quilt of white linens.  With no table legs in site, this was gonna be a cobble squat.  However, no picnic plastic to be found.  Bamboo dishes, neatly printed menus, and glass stemware covered the tables.  Meanwhile, accents of beige and yellow helped balance the area against the deep greens of the park.  Some flowers, a few pillows, and some tiki torches … and we have a winner.

To kill some time, guests were offered a cocktail that screamed H&F top to bottom.  The Duck Pond cocktail didn’t last long in my glass (nor did any of the refills).  Hayman’s Old Tom Gin, Orange Curacao, Orange & Grapefruit juice and a splash of rosé vermouth went down nice and easy.  Admittedly sweet in nature, the acidic kick of the juices were spot on.

Meanwhile, my blood pressure quickly went from 0 to 250 in about 1 second flat.  I eyed the crowd and saw more than a few people who knew me.  Too funny!  Thank goodness they were all close acquaintances.  Since Katie and I were actually some of the younger ones present, my crew helped me bridge the gap to other guests.

About this time, we realized that each individual had one of four names on a slip of paper… ahh … the inevitable mixer!  I ran for cover and quickly tried to hoard my posse at a table.  I was graciously rebuffed and in the end … I’m glad.  Being mixed in with everyone helped make the event feel more relaxed.

While we drank, appetizers (identified as “passed” on the menu) floated around.  How appropriate.  Included in the mix was an amuse-bouche cup with chilled pea soup.  Accented with fresh mint leaf, the soup itself was substantive but light.   A nice touch since many a pea soup come with a hearty density.  Not to be forgotten, the mint buzzed in at just the right time.

Also making the rounds was some charred toast with a purée of fava beans.  References to Silence of the Lambs aside, this dish grabbed my attention.  The purée made excellent use of the buttery, yet nutty bitterness of the fava bean.  Fava beans are one of the more labor intensive beans I know of.  To see Hopkins utilize them in such extenuating circumstances was nothing less than REALLY FUCKING COOL!

Eventually, Jenny and her crew sent the foodies scurrying toward the “dining hall.” Some nice chitter chatter broke out and food started arriving (along with plenty of wine).  The very first dish of the night easily took home the big blue ribbon.  The culprit was grilled baby romaine with chèvre, crisp ham, spiced almonds, and citrus vinaigrette.  That this was produced by a chef armed with nothing more than an outdoor TRAVEL grill was a total shock (seems like we’ve heard that before).  The goat cheese (aka chèvre) gave a creamy balance to a dish marked by the vinaigrette and ham against the almonds and the lettuce.

Other samplings followed and each did a fine job of pleasing my palate (which was quickly being washed away by Mr. Hol).  The pimento cheese on sesame crisps was fresh and clean and hinted at spice.  Though it didn’t make me twitch, others with a lesser tolerance for spice seemed to take note.  Next up, the bacon wrapped quail.  I missed the bacon entirely and the flavors here weren’t readily available.  Still, the fowl was cooked perfectly and remained juicy throughout my sampling.  Thumbs up (especially in the circumstances).

Last but not least, each guest was handed a small bowl of pickled shrimp.  Touched off with carrot slivers and onions, I might be mistaken in my previous statement. All I know is that I commandeered one of these for myself.  The pickling was in full effect; meanwhile, the shrimp themselves showed no signs of “ringing” and were cooked so as to maintain their staple characteristics.  Act I – fin!

Shortly after I licked the last of the pickled juices off my grublits, Jenny threw us a curve ball.  Grab your silverware and glasses and get your groove on at another table.  Being the wild and rebellious guy that I am, I decided to stay put.  After all, if everyone else moves – I’ll get a whole new crowd anyway.  Economy of motion in full effect.

Flanked by new company, the main event rolled in.  I must say that by this time, my taste buds were shot (take a guess as to why).  However, I still took the time in between my conversations with those around me to appreciate the execution of the food.  I’ll be honest, the food from Saturday was earth shattering.  This however, is only because it was restricted by the difficult kitchen setup.  Given those short comings, I am nothing more than astounded by Linton’s culinary talents.

The Grilled Salmon (accompanied by tomato and basil fondue) didn’t miss a beat.  There is nothing easier to do in the kitchen than poodle screw a piece of fresh fish.  Hopkins maintained his strong performance.  The salmon flaked apart as I had hoped and as best as I could tell … did not taste “fishy” in the slightest.  High quality ingredients cooked properly!  Meanwhile, the hangar steak with parsley and red onion salad showed me something: the person(s) responsible for this meal know a thing or two about statements.  Play the hand your dealt.  Look, maybe someone else would be more critical of this set up … but remember … there was no Viking in site.  The steak was cooked to medium temperature … approaching 150F but not quite there.   I’m a medium rare guy myself, but I can respect someone who puts out a good piece of beef that isn’t dried out.

Not a sweets guy, I do think I need to at least reference the Peach cobbler.  They made use of Clabber cream.  Shockingly, this wasn’t my first experience with clabber cream.  For those of you in the dark, it is very similar to crème fraîche, but thicker and more like a smooth ricotta.  It’s not common these days as the creator must rely on unpasteurized milk to concoct the stuff.

I guess that I should make also mention that another dessert course was available.  However, the only reason I know it was there was that it was on the menu.  A southern cheese plate with bread almonds and honey was bogarted … I’m looking at you Mr. & Mrs. Gail.  All kidding aside, I can’t say I missed it.  I was definitely full and plenty happy to spend my time in conversation with the nice woman who was forced to put up with me for the last half of the meal.

At the end of the day, the food might have lacked the true finish that Hopkins cuisine is known for.  However, it’s a more than understandable reality, given that he was working outdoors with mobile equipment.  That said, the food Hopkins put forth on Saturday easily rivaled the dishes at some of ATL’s more respected eateries.  If I had to put up this kinda dough in a restaurant, I’d have had a totally different set of expectations.  Here, everything worked flawlessly.

[Colbert just cropped his top … cool]

As the word count continues to pile up, I’d be remise if I didn’t say thank you to Gina (Linton’s boss … cough … better half).  She was a great addition to the experience and I’m sorry I didn’t take more time to talk about her and Jenny.  The two of them really did a wonderful job.  Meanwhile, I managed to sneak in a conversation with Linton … but I’ll leave the details of that for another time.

Bottom line is: if you can get past the pristine wrapping and the price tag, Souper Jenny supper clubs seem like an AWESOME thing to get in on.  Once you stop worrying about the surface matter, you’ll find yourself in a friendly environment filled with great food and wonderful hosts.  While I can’t speak to the company you will find yourself in – I lucked out.  If you want to get in on one of these, get in line over at Souper Jenny’s special events page.

Before I check out, another one of the guests posted her thoughts over on her blog.  Interestingly enough, I don’t think we ran into each other in the crowd of 20 or so.  In addition, she has pictures … so it’s worth a visit.

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From the archives (10.03.2008)

Overall: 2.5 out of 4 stars

This is what a breakfast joint should be.  It’s nestled in that hopping little intersection of McLendon & Clifton, across the street from the evil empire that is Flying Biscuit.  Nearby, there are a handful of shops/boutiques as well as the Fellini’s/La Fonda combo.  I’ve visited Gato Bizco more times than I can remember; I’ve never left disappointed (or hungry).  The food is inexpensive and the portions are HUMONGOUS.  It’s almost too cheap for the amount of food you get.  It is hard to make a really stand out breakfast; but, Gato does without fail!

The atmosphere is “comfortable emo-punk.”  The employees are tattooed and pierced, but, they have a very “come as you are” appeal.  Don’t be alarmed as everyone here is accepted with kindness. When you walk into a place like the Majestic, you aren’t sure when the last time any of the employees showered.  This is not the case with the staff at Gato Bizco.  Though the restaurant has that dive-ish quality, the establishment is clean.

The customers come from all walks of life (sans the street folk that frequent places like Majestic) and the staff never makes you feel out of place.  The decor is as comforting as the food; there are a handful of booths and a bar that seats about eight people.

If you go on a weekend, you’ll have a little bit of a wait – usually between 15-25 minutes, but don’t let that deter you.  You can sit outside and they will gladly bring you the beverage of your choice.  The wait is usually longer across the street (for some odd reason); and though the menus are far from identical, I just can’t see why the Biscuit gets such a crowd.

The fare here includes traditional American breakfast grub, basic tex-mex fare, and an assortment of sandwiches and lunchables.  The biscuits are fresh every day and boy are they freakin tasty!  Each one is fluffy, fresh, and crumbles in just the right way.  That said, I’m pretty sure they are made offsite.  The eggs are amazing.  Whether you order the omelet, a breakfast sandwich, or the Huevos Rancheros (OOOH MAN ARE THEY TASTY), you will not be disappointed.  The eggs always seem to come out fluffy and light.  When you add the aforementioned eggs (any style), cheese, and/or meat to a biscuit, you end up with one of the best breakfast sandwiches you’ll find.  Be careful with the burritos – they are massively huge and massively tasty.  (massively tasty – is that even an appropriate phrase???)

The menu is also chalk full of pancakes, tex-mex choices, and sandwich options.  To be honest, I’ve never ordered any of them.  It is not a due to a lack of desire; rather, I can never get myself to pass on the Huevos or a breakfast sandwich.  I’ve seen many a children dive into the pancakes like the Hamburglar mows down a cheeseburger, only to stop half-way through as the immense deliciousness of their meal puts them into a wonderful food coma.
In fact – that’s what this place is – one big food coma.  Caveat emptor!

Food: 2 out of 4 stars
Service: 2.5 out of 4 stars
Vibe: 2.5 out of 4 stars
Overall: 2.5 out of 4 stars

Address: 1660 McLendon Ave NE Atlanta, GA 30307 // P: 404.371.0889

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Overall: 3 out of 4 stars

Over the past year and change, Atlanta has lost a number of its’ most well respected chefs.  Joël Antunes left for the bright lights of New York, Guenter Seeger ran off into oblivion, and Michael Tuohy went to Sacramento (that’s not a misprint ladies and germs…SACRAMENTO!). [Quick aside – Tuohy is doing very well: LINKY]

At the same time, we have welcomed Jean-Georges, Tom Colicchio, Laurent Tourondel, and others.  While their restaurants thrive, despite mixed reviews in some instances, these culinary giants have grabbed a great deal of attention.  Deservedly so, I might add.  Toss in the emergence of our beloved and adopted Richard Blais [he’s actually a New Yorker … and dare I say..a Gators fan!!!], and there isn’t much room on the front page for anyone else.  While somewhat lost amongst them, chef Bruce Logue has garnered some well deserved attention from the local foodies (myself included).

Logue’s return, as he is a native Atlantan, is inspiring to say the least.  Though his skills as a restauranteur are not as polished as those mentioned previously, he has proven to be a very capable chef.  Read the rest of this after the jump.

While Logue does not have the name recognition of someone like Colicchio, his resume reads quite well.  Amongst other stops (Italy), he trained locally at Pano’s and Paul’s.  Perhaps even more impressive, he served as the chef de cuisine at Babbo, a popular NYU eatery started by none other than Mario Batali.

His dishes show the refinement of a seasoned veteran; meanwhile, he pushes the envelope ever so slightly so as to intrigue but not offend.  Despite a less than ideal location, and dreadful timing (anyone else want to open a business in this economy???), La Pietra Cucina, aka The Stone Kitchen, has vaulted to the near top of my list of favorite restaurants in Terminus.

Make no mistake, this place is NOT a trattoria.  It IS a ristorante.  In fact, I have read numerous reviews that have attacked La Pietra for everything from their decor to their setup to their signage (or lack there of).  If you are one of those reviewers… I feel bad for you.  I suppose under different circumstances, I *might* be more inclined to agree with the criticism; however, I just don’t get it.  Given the state of the economy and the “underdog” attitude this place emotes, I will gladly overlook the failures that are as much the buildings fault as they are LPCs.  In regards to the decor, I like it… so there!!!

La Pietra now occupies the space formerly used by Shaun Doty and Mid City Cuisine.  For those of you not familiar with the space, it is on the ground floor of the Invesco building near the intersection of Spring and Peachtree.  While Logue initially intended on utilizing the full space, they have, at least for the meantime, resigned themselves to the corner room which was previously used as a private dinning area.  I will concede that current setup makes for an unnerving entrance to the restaurant.  The vast emptiness of the main room would almost make you turn around and leave out of fear that the restaurant was closed.  The one saving grace is that the kitchen is on full display near the back.

The signage out front is sparse.  A “valet” sign sits street side, but far enough off the road that I don’t think anyone will ever notice.  It’s pretty small, especially when compared to the hanging sign nearby.  Unfortunately, that sign still reads Mid City Cuisine … bummer. 

Back inside, the dinning room itself is clean and simple.  The accents have been tweaked a number of times since the restaurant opened, but they are always subtle and out of the way.  I, an avid minimalist, do recognize that a little bit of refinement may help; but I find the space up to par with many others nearby.

The operations at La Pietra are perhaps it’s only real failure.  The staff is lean, and while that in and of itself is not a problem, they just don’t have the kinks worked out. There is no host/hostess to seat patrons, and that does not lend itself to the “we’re closed” feeling you may get from the empty cavern you walk into.  The head waiter/maître d’hôtel/manager is extremely nice and very knowledgeable, but I have yet to see any semblance of a system implemented.  This lends itself well to the laid back atmosphere; but not well to prompt service.  This is not to say I have found the service to be bad.  Rather, it has been somewhat hit or miss.

A big plus, and I do mean big, is that they do understand the idea of service.  The number of times all party members are served simultaneously vastly out weights the alternative.  That’s very important and should not be taken lightly.  Though I feel awfully guilty by mentioning this, there is one male waiter that is the biggest problem.  In fact, I actually thought he had moved on.  He is very nice, but just not up to par.  He is horribly unkempt and perspires a great deal.  He never messes up orders, but always seems to be running a step behind.  One can only imagine what he will look like when the summer heat hits.  I have sent many a people to La Pietra, and several of them have made note of him.

But let’s be honest, the hick-ups in service are forgivable, even for the nice guy who just needs a little dusting, and the location/signage is a non-factor.  What isn’t forgivable is the food.  I say that with quite a smile as the food is just wonderful.

Chef Logue has done a magnificent job on all fronts.  The menu has been assembled with great care and detail.  The dishes are diverse, but not overwhelming in number.  It is evident that Bruce has taken the opportunities afforded him and made his own mark.  Even the dishes that he has brought with him from his previous endeavors are now his own.  For example, his black tagliatelle with rock shrimp closely resembles the version at Babbo (pictured left).  Logue has tweaked it a bit and it is without a doubt one of my favorite items on the menu.

The smoked tomato soup, accompanied by house made ricotta and pimenton (aka..paprika) is excellent.  Which brings me to another very important point: in house cooking.  The breads, pastas, and a number of cheeses are all made in house.  That’s impressive!  The bread basket served up offers some of that fresh bread and always includes those long thin sticks whose name eludes me at this time [As another aside… this is like the mental block of all mental blocks… I've sat on this post for a few hours simply to remember what these things are called and i just can’t do it – i should be shot as it is an incredibly common item at Italian restaurants, I have shamed all foodies with my failure].

As you might expect from a place where such items are made in house, the menu does “adjust” daily.  A handful of specials seem to float around and come and go; additionally, the printed menu has been adjusted several times.  One such example of an ever changing fixture is Logue’s seasonal risotto.  They are collectively my “Dish of the Year.”  Regardless of the ingredients (everything from duck comfit to chanterelle mushrooms to scallops), Logue executes the dish with remarkable consistency and balances the flavors with precision.  His latest endeavor, the scallops, may just take the cake.  A single, seared scallop comes served over a full bowl of light risotto.  The risotto itself has Brussels sprout leaves, chestnut butter, and diced scallops.  I suspect the base is a seafood broth of sorts.  Ultimately, I would say it is clam, but I may be, and probably am, wrong on that guess.  It is simply wonderful.  As an insiders tip, the risotto can usually be ordered in an appetizer portion.  The lone exception so far has been this latest take.

While the wild boar Ragù and the bolognaise are nothing short of experiences in awesomeness, this is not to say I absolutely love everything on the menu.  However, everything is made with care and with a purpose.   To explain, I hate broccoli (and I’m using the word hate here).  It is evil and the single most likely factor to cause world to implode.  That said, someone could do a good job preparing that unmentionable.  Such is the case with the clam sauce, and a few other items.  The clam sauce is just too oily, and while I like the acidic texture of the included pork, it just doesn’t do the trick for me.  Someone else may love it that way.

If you compare the menus at La Pietra and a place like Top Flr, La Pietra wins hands down.  This includes price point, value, quality of ingredients, and quality of the food.  It’s unfair really even though the cuisine types are different.  In a nutshell, La Pietra makes Top Flr look like Piston Honda after a minute in the ring with Little Mac.  Unfortunately, I can’t find a good picture of Honda all ravaged…so you’ll have to do with this:

But enough of my childhood endeavors, the prices at LPC are offensively inexpensive.  I really believe they are under selling their product, and in dramatic fashion.  I am befuddled by how reasonable the prices are, especially when the portions are more than ample, and at times border on the excessive.

The quality of food is right up there with any restaurant in Atlanta and it is the best Italian offered up.  Yes that includes other stand out Italian spots like Soto Soto and Il Mullino.  You can eat at Bacchanalia and break the bank, or you can dine at La Pietra and have a very comparable experience for 1/3 the money.  I am not trying to compare Bacchanalia and LPC as they are really trying for different crowds.  I am simply saying that price does not dictate quality.

The restaurant verges dangerously close to 3.5 stars; however, I do not like to use half-stars at this level.

As I have mentioned previously, there are few people in this city who have eaten there as much as I have.  A family member is the only one I am sure tops me in total trips, and Bruce Logue Sr. may as well.  We warmly regard La Pietra as the Club, and I see no reason for me not to eat there at least once a week (usually it’s closer to 3x).  I am anxious to see how this place grows as time goes on, but in the meantime … get there, and get there fast!

Food: 3.5 out of 4 stars
Service: 1 out of 4 stars
Vibe: 2 out of 4 stars
Overall: 3 out of 4 stars

Address: 1545 Peachtree St NE Atlanta, GA 30309 // P: 404.888.8709

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Overall: 2 out of 4 stars

Philadelphia is the self-proclaimed Cheesesteak Capital.  I’ve traveled to the most well-known spots (Pat’s King of Cheesesteaks and Geno’s Steaks) and I’ve been to each several times over.  Trust me when I say that they are essentially crap on a bun.  You go to those tourist traps for the “experience;” there are better steaks to be had in Philly (and better experiences).  Most locals would acquiesce – if you’re a steak connoisseur, you just don’t go to those spots.  Don’t believe me?  Go see what yelpers have to say.  Unlike Champagne, you can have an authentic steak and cheese outside the 215.  Which brings us to Woody’s, a local joint that stacks up just fine to those Philadelphia institutions … thank you very much.

Woody’s had been in Atlanta as long as most any restaurant (some 30-years).  It is, dare I say, an institution.  Owner David Pastoria has built a following, and his work is a real hit amongst the hustle and bustle of a Midtown lunch.

The building is an unassuming little hut that sits all alone on the intersection of Monroe & Virginia.  However, the frequently crowded parking lot and the enormous sign let you know exactly what to expect: good food and a wait.  Similar to Ann’s Snack Bar (internal), Woody’s moves at its’ own pace.  I cannot remember the last time I went there when David wasn’t holed up behind the register.

They cook everything to order, so don’t expect to dive in and out in three minutes – it is not fast food.  It usually takes between 7 and 10 minutes to get your order, and that’s just fine with me.  If they are busy (which is most of the time), you’ll have to make yourself comfortable.

They have a handful of menu options, but make no mistake … this place is for cheesesteaks.  The meat is quality and their cheeses, while not artisan, get the job done.  You may find the meat to bread ratio a little lacking – in that case – just make sure you get double meat.  I like mine with extra onions and extra cheese, though “All the Way” is tasty as well (+onions, +ketchup, + mustard).  I’ve also sampled their turkey sub on occasion – fairly benign, but certainly acceptable if you are trying to stay on the lighter side.  I will not hold it against them, if you want a healthy meal, you shouldn’t really be here.  Their dogs look appetizing, but I can never get myself to order them.  If I’m going to be bad – I’m gonna have a steak.  However, I am determined to order a dog next time I visit.

In addition, their crushed ice is awesome (yeah – the ICE!!!).  It comes in pellet form and crunches ever so subtlety with each chew.  They are a lunch only place, so be prepared to be disappointed if you show up after 5pm.  Nobody will be there!  Though I *might* give the nod to Roy’s in overall quality – if you live nearby Woody’s there is no real reason to drive out there.  Feel free to bring the kiddies as the place is wood from cover to cover; unless you plan on handing little Timmy a canister of kerosene, he won’t be able to do much damage.

Food: 2 out of 4 stars
Service: 1 out of 4 stars
Vibe: 2 out of 4 stars
Overall: 2 out of 4 stars

Address: 981 Monroe Dr NE Atlanta, GA 30308 // P: 404.876.1939

post script: I grabbed that images off google … if they’re yours – lmk and I’ll gladly give credit where credit is due!

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From the archives (11.09.08)

A good buddy of mine joined me for lunch at Café Agora this past Friday; the experience was yet another in a long line of tasty meals at this Mediterranean eatery. With the demise of Shipfeifer, Agora is now the only spot in the ATL I go for a quality gyro and tasty Turkish food.  While there are a handful of options in the burbs (that’s you Alpharetta), this is the best place in town and well worth the drive from Midtown.  Overall, I rate the food here very highly, but there are two or three problems with the experience that prevent the perfect score.

My experience on Friday was pretty much par for the course.  I walked in around 12:30 and there were three tables with patrons.  Al, the owner, must have been outside because I didn’t notice him when I walked in. They only have about 10 tables in the entire restaurant, yet they never do a good job keeping the place clean.  They use paper products – which should make it easy for them to clean up.  They fail pretty badly in this department.  Friday’s meal: Four of those tables had trash on them and the rest were all covered in various sauces and sticky substances left by messy patrons.  They only clean up sporadically and when they do – watch out because they plaster the glass top tables with Windex.  If you’re nearby, cover up because you’ll almost certainly get caught in the line of fire.  I found a spot near the front and parked myself in anticipation – Chris R was running late.

Sure enough, Al was outside; he walked in a moment or two after I sat down.  He was very attentive and made sure I was not ignored – I told him I was waiting and he smiled, gave me the usual “Thank you my friend” and continued on his way.  What a jolly guy.  After a few minutes of waiting, I decided to order an app.  There is no wait staff, so you have to order from the line.  I asked for the hummus and Al went to work.  He delivered a gorgeous spread of Hummus, Tabouli, and Turkish meze (i.e., a group of Turkish side dishes).  I was really excited that he served Havuc Salatasi (shredded carrots with garlic, some yogurt, dill, and a few other spices).  I had sampled it there, and I was quite pleased with the composition and flavor.  The platter comes with diced pita.  This has always bugged me as it makes it hard to scoop the hummus.  I always end up having to ask for more pita.  As I have never traveled to Turkey, I am not sure if this is their traditional method of serving pita – but it bothers me nonetheless.

Moments after I returned to the table, CR walked in (followed by about 10 others).  It was obvious they had been to Agora before as they all made a beeline for the cash register and not for the tables.  Al yelled to the cooks to clean up the tables while he held down the fort.  Meanwhile, we chowed on some of the delicious hummus and were then squeezed ourselves in line before a more patrons showed up.  Whenever Café Agora gets busy (often), you see Al sweat a little.  He never writes things down and you don’t pay until you are done – so he seems to get a little lost.  What follows is an odd dance that Al is quite adept at.  As they come in, he will repeat orders to the chefs in the back (90% of which are for Gyros), then as they come up – he’ll call and point to the person he thinks ordered the dish.  The kitchen (almost) always seems to get the orders right, but it usually takes Al a couple of tries before he matches each order with the proper customer. Think of this as an abstract match game.   I’m quite amazed actually – if I had to deal with all the “no onions, add tzatziki, etc… etc,” my customers would be lucky to get something from the correct culinary family, let alone the right order.

CR ordered the adana kebab and I, failing to be sensible (as in – go for something light), chose the gyro.  I got over my indecisiveness 2 seconds later when I remember what a treat I was in for.  CRs Adana kebab was perfect.  I had never sampled the adana, but like the kuzu, iskender, or kofte kebab – it was spot on.  The meat was cooked and seasoned perfectly, and there was plenty of pita, rice, and bulgur.  My gyro was exceptional.  As always – the lamb and beef were well marinated, juicy, cooked exactly right.  The cooks do a good job of adding just the right amount of tzatziki sauce.  Consistent and excellent are two great ways to describe the food here.  To top it off, Al made rounds and dropped off a piece of cevizli for each of the patrons.  This doesn’t always happen, but it’s not unusual either.

I’ve never had a bad meal here and in fact, I’ve never had a bad dish here.  Whether you are a meatatarian or a vegetarian, a lamb fan or a chicken lover, you cannot go wrong.  Despite the cleanliness issues and the organized confusion when Agora gets busy, your meal will almost definitely be wonderfully delicious.

Address: 262 E. Paces Ferry NE Atlanta, GA, 30305 // P: 404.949.0900 // Website // Menu

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I sit here writing this review only to realize that nearly all of my posts have revolved around sushi! I guess I need to get out more! Actually, this is entirely circumstantial and I promise to kick the variety up a notch!

As luck would have it, I should be able to have this years Christmas day feast at my new favorite sushi spot in, or in this case around, the Dirty. Though I still need to get confirmation, this news propelled me to share my thoughts on this gem!

Sushi House Hayakawa, aptly named for owner Atsushi "Art" Hayakawa, has quickly established itself in what has become a densely populated sushi scene. Now while this is no Soto, Hayakawa will serve as one of the better alternatives for any of my fellow "Soto-ites."

The interior is distinctly Japanese, the staff is extremely pleasant, and Art is a lively one. Though people are not greeted quite as robustly as are the guests of Sushi-Huku, right away you will get the sense that this is a carefree and indulgent atmosphere. So much so that during my second meal there, everyone participated in a game of rock-paper-scissors! My friend came in second, though we both swear she was robbed!

As many other critics will tell you – the clientele at a sushi bar is a great indicator of how good the food is. Many will tell you that a large portion of the guests at Sushi House are indeed Japanese. Though I firmly disagree with them in the technical accuracy of that assumption, I do agree with them in its’ spirit. Many of the customers are Asian, and yes some of them are Japanese.

Hayakawa briefly sharpened his tako hiki under the tutelage of Sotohiro Kosugi. In this case, I stress the word briefly – I think he was there less than one week if memory serves me! Haya-san then relocated to Haru Ichiban before he settled in at MF Sushi Bar. He pretty much took care of me personally at MF from ’04 thru ’06. In fact, my satisfaction with MF is in large part due to Haya-san. It is great to see him get out of there as his talents are best utilized in a more relaxed setting!

Alright, enough of the background – let’s get onto the meat of the review: how’s the fish? In a nutshell, it is excellent. The majority of the fish is flown in daily from Japan. However, I was very pleased to hear that Haya-san will cherry pick a few things from other regions. Though I find the dishes prepared by the kitchen to be somewhat disjointed, everything that I have had from the sushi bar has been excellent at best, and very good at worst.

At Sushi House, they take great pride in the plating and presentation of the food. Haya-san’s creativity reminds me of my beloved Soto. Though the sashimi is not phenomenal, it is excellent. Each piece is precise and refined; additionally, all of the fish has the appropriate texture (which is very important with sushi!). Many of the items Haya-san served me during my visits were signature dishes of his. As such, I strongly suggest you order omakase and mention a willingness to experiment. In addition, while the dishes that are put out by the kitchen leave your palette confused, the cooked items prepared at the sushi bar are excellent.

I am quite pleased with the selection of sake. Though it is not the best list I have ever seen, the list did surpass my expectations. If you are not familiar with sake, you are best off playing pointy finger roulette as the wait staff does not seem terribly up to speed with the choices. They will let you sample a couple before you settle on your sake of choice.

Though distance is a huge detractor for me, I intend to get back up here just as much as I possibly can. Oh, and before I forget: Though the website is pretty much a disaster – it is DEFINITELY worth at least one visit. As of this writing, you are treated to a flash "Batman-esk" Christmas card that features Art!

Address: Chamblee, 5979 Buford Hwy NE, Atlanta, GA 30340 // P: 770.986.0010

Restaurant Website

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