Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Last Supper
Thats a horrible picture of a really good raw zucchini and parmesan salad with olive oil and lemon....slowly but surely I'll get the hang of taking pix of food!
Last night Charlotte, Amy and I went to famed Rathbun’s for dinner to have our “last supper” before Amy leaves for London. To tell you the truth, I was a bit worried about dinnering here, mostly due to budget concerns, but it turns out that you can have a great meal here for under $25 providing you don’t order any cocktails and stick to the small plates.
We didn’t do exactly that, though: Amy and Char ordered a glass of wine each, and we ordered one main course in addition to all the small plates, as well as a dessert plate. But still, we left paying about $35 each.
This is what we ate:
Small plates:
Goat cheese fritters with tomato jelly
Spring pea raviolis, ricotta salata
Raw plates:
Thin & raw beef sirloin, smoked sea salt, slow roast garlic aioli
Georgia zucchini and Parmesan Reggiano salad, Tuscan olive oil, lemon (pictured above)
Greek wedge, tomato, cucumber and feta
Soup:
Mock turtle soup with dry sack sherry
Big plates:
Rosemary grilled beef flat iron steak, heart of palm, arugula and lemon oil
Dessert (and here I paraphrase, because we ordered mostly specials):
Banana peanut butter cream pie
Krog street candy bar
Lemon rice pudding with blueberries
Toffee bread pudding with cinnamon ice cream
Peach short bread
Warm chocolate cake with some flavor ice cream
I hereby invite Amy or Charlotte to comment on the accuracy of this list. Oh, and please note that the first two desserts were brought to the table because it was Char’s birthday and Amy was leaving for London (hence, we got a “Happy Birthday” and a “Congratulations” dessert in addition to the 4-part dessert sampler).
Besides having to ask for the breadbasket, the service was friendly and attentive. Our waitress even took a picture of us.
That’s me grabbing my face after Char elbowed me hard in my cheek. Amy was only interested in looking pretty for the camera, and didn’t care that my already fixed-up nose could have been severely damaged by Char’s flailing limbs.
Wait –
I really didn’t tell you a thing about the food. Perhaps that is a sign in itself…I won’t speak for the ladies, but I was a little unimpressed by the food given that Rathbun’s is named by some to be Atlanta’s best new restaurant. It wasn’t the best, it was good. Very good in fact, but again, not the best. Joel is better and so is Seeger’s. But the zucchini and parm salad was fabulous, the steak was very well done (even though it was rare, per Char’s request, and I normally hate rare steak --- okay, okay pun intended, kill me!), and I just loved the fritters with the sweetish tomato jelly. The soup on the other hand, tasted like Bolognese sauce, despite the sherry drizzled on top.
All in all, I would definitely come here again. Perhaps for drinks at the Krog Bar (opening soon), or for small plates before going out, or for dinner with the parents. One thing I won’t be doing, however, is having any more of that mock turtle soup. What the hell does that mean anyways? Fake turtle, as in tofu chicken? If you know, please post your wisdom.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Coisas do Brasil
Last night I attended a tasting dinner for Riccardo’s new-concept restaurant, a Brazilian café type of place that is estimated to open sometime early next year, if I remember the timeline correctly.
Now, this was my first time over at “R’s,” and I was very happy that Amy thought to invite me, so my anticipation was ramping up all day Sunday prior to the event; not only because I was looking forward to being part of the kewl krew, but because someone (chef Joe from Boston) was actually going to take the time to prepare a handful of Brazilian dishes that I became so accustomed to during my trip there this past winter.
About an hour and a half after the customary caipirinhas (smushed up limes with sugar, sugar cane juice and cachaça) were served, Joe came in with a South American smorgasbord. I didn’t eat the courses in order, but I will do my best to describe the dishes in the order I ended up eating them.
My first plate consisted of two of the fried appetizers and a trio of ceviche – tuna, scallop and shrimp. The tuna turned out tasting a little Asian due to, among other things, the abundance of sesame seeds, but the diced watermelon was a fantastic touch. The scallops was the highlight of the three, and I particularly enjoyed the bite of olive and texture of the radish it was served with – I’m already an addict, and to my taste, I wouldn’t alter a single aspect of this dish (and now I regret not taking a photo in order to recall all the ingredients in this in order to recreate it!).The shrimp ceviche was a great concept, but the execution failed in that the marinade turned out too creamy and overpowered the shrimp and fruit that it was served with. From listening to the conversation at the table, it sounded as though the consensus was that the sauce here was too rich, and there are plans in the works to modify this dish to include lobster instead of the shrimp.
Then there was the fried empanada filled with shrimp (which was pretty forgettable), and a salt cod fritter that resembled a coxinha (deep fried dough normally made with chicken filling) that was absolutely incredible. Perhaps a bit large in size, and apparently coated with panko, this “ball of love” did not resemble the bacalao it was made of, and had not a whiff of fishiness. Really, quite excellent indeed.
My second round of food was a two-part operation. I filled a small dish with a chicken empanada (not as good as the coxinhas I ate at each and every bus station and rest stop in Brazil or, for that matter, at Chris Brazil) and a concoction made with lobster and cheese that was left uneaten save the one sampling bite. This was probably the biggest flop of all the dishes served…the taste of it reminded me of what I would have thought all those Iron Chef liver and roe creations would have tasted like… I’d rather just forget it and continue on with the rest. The last item on this plate was a fried potato and bacalao mix that was really nice, albeit a bit oily. The second part of this two-part operation was filling a bowl with …. and now a drumroll please…..
Ta da! Moqueca of mixed seafood, served with white rice and farofa (seasoned manioc flour).
Ok, here’s the deal. And I thought long and hard about this. How much is my impending criticism a result of comparing what I had once consumed in Brazil, and how much is it a result of the dish itself? I mean, perhaps the moqueca that I had in Arembepe was not really all that good, but it was so good to me because I had never had it before, you know? I, for one, don’t know, but I couldn’t help comparing the two because the differences were so significant.
In and of itself, the moqueca we ate last night was good, but to me, not as good as those I inhaled in Bahia. And this is for a few reasons, the first being that the seafood with which it was made it very difficult to eat – the shrimp was left unpeeled and the crab legs left uncracked, and being that this dish is a very yellow stew, I couldn’t imagine eating this in a restaurant even if I had a crab leg cracker-openers, for fear that I would make a mess of myself. This brings me to my first point: last night’s moqueca was made of user-unfriendly seafood as opposed to the mostly fish fillet moqueca de peixe or the shrimp moqueca de camarão I had in Brazil. Having the fish or shrimp be the main event made the stew more about the seafood and less about the broth, which I felt was the attraction last night – I mean, besides the one shrimp, one calamari ring and one lonely mussel, there just wasn’t much seafood substance, mostly because the crab legs didn’t crack. And here we come to the second point: the shrimp in last night’s stew had a very funky mushy consistency, as if it was cooked way too long. ‘Nuff said. Third point, and perhaps an unfair one: I really missed eating pirão with the moqueca, farofa and rice. It’s a texture thing, like wanting mashed potatoes with steak. Or whipped parsnips with…well, anything. It’s like, you got your hard grain (rice), you got your liquids (stew broth), now you need the gunk (pirão). And pirão is nothing more than the cassava flour mixed with broth from the moqueca and some other yummy ingredients. My fourth (and I think last) point: there was something in last night’s stew that made it less “bright” than those I ate in Brazil. I can’t put my finger on it…was it a lack of lime? Was it just too heavy? I don’t know and I wish I did.
All in all, though, the event was fantastic, the food was fantastic, and the caipifrutas after dinner very yummy indeed. Joe put forth a formidable effort, R was a great host, Amy a great girlfriend, and the guests were a mixed bag of interesting conversation. Couldn’t have asked for more. I’m looking forward to seeing R’s final renditions of the food we ate last night – what he decided to keep, what to scrap and what to modify to match Atlanta’s taste buds. I'll keep ya'll posted!
Now, this was my first time over at “R’s,” and I was very happy that Amy thought to invite me, so my anticipation was ramping up all day Sunday prior to the event; not only because I was looking forward to being part of the kewl krew, but because someone (chef Joe from Boston) was actually going to take the time to prepare a handful of Brazilian dishes that I became so accustomed to during my trip there this past winter.
About an hour and a half after the customary caipirinhas (smushed up limes with sugar, sugar cane juice and cachaça) were served, Joe came in with a South American smorgasbord. I didn’t eat the courses in order, but I will do my best to describe the dishes in the order I ended up eating them.
My first plate consisted of two of the fried appetizers and a trio of ceviche – tuna, scallop and shrimp. The tuna turned out tasting a little Asian due to, among other things, the abundance of sesame seeds, but the diced watermelon was a fantastic touch. The scallops was the highlight of the three, and I particularly enjoyed the bite of olive and texture of the radish it was served with – I’m already an addict, and to my taste, I wouldn’t alter a single aspect of this dish (and now I regret not taking a photo in order to recall all the ingredients in this in order to recreate it!).The shrimp ceviche was a great concept, but the execution failed in that the marinade turned out too creamy and overpowered the shrimp and fruit that it was served with. From listening to the conversation at the table, it sounded as though the consensus was that the sauce here was too rich, and there are plans in the works to modify this dish to include lobster instead of the shrimp.
Then there was the fried empanada filled with shrimp (which was pretty forgettable), and a salt cod fritter that resembled a coxinha (deep fried dough normally made with chicken filling) that was absolutely incredible. Perhaps a bit large in size, and apparently coated with panko, this “ball of love” did not resemble the bacalao it was made of, and had not a whiff of fishiness. Really, quite excellent indeed.
My second round of food was a two-part operation. I filled a small dish with a chicken empanada (not as good as the coxinhas I ate at each and every bus station and rest stop in Brazil or, for that matter, at Chris Brazil) and a concoction made with lobster and cheese that was left uneaten save the one sampling bite. This was probably the biggest flop of all the dishes served…the taste of it reminded me of what I would have thought all those Iron Chef liver and roe creations would have tasted like… I’d rather just forget it and continue on with the rest. The last item on this plate was a fried potato and bacalao mix that was really nice, albeit a bit oily. The second part of this two-part operation was filling a bowl with …. and now a drumroll please…..
Ta da! Moqueca of mixed seafood, served with white rice and farofa (seasoned manioc flour).
Ok, here’s the deal. And I thought long and hard about this. How much is my impending criticism a result of comparing what I had once consumed in Brazil, and how much is it a result of the dish itself? I mean, perhaps the moqueca that I had in Arembepe was not really all that good, but it was so good to me because I had never had it before, you know? I, for one, don’t know, but I couldn’t help comparing the two because the differences were so significant.
In and of itself, the moqueca we ate last night was good, but to me, not as good as those I inhaled in Bahia. And this is for a few reasons, the first being that the seafood with which it was made it very difficult to eat – the shrimp was left unpeeled and the crab legs left uncracked, and being that this dish is a very yellow stew, I couldn’t imagine eating this in a restaurant even if I had a crab leg cracker-openers, for fear that I would make a mess of myself. This brings me to my first point: last night’s moqueca was made of user-unfriendly seafood as opposed to the mostly fish fillet moqueca de peixe or the shrimp moqueca de camarão I had in Brazil. Having the fish or shrimp be the main event made the stew more about the seafood and less about the broth, which I felt was the attraction last night – I mean, besides the one shrimp, one calamari ring and one lonely mussel, there just wasn’t much seafood substance, mostly because the crab legs didn’t crack. And here we come to the second point: the shrimp in last night’s stew had a very funky mushy consistency, as if it was cooked way too long. ‘Nuff said. Third point, and perhaps an unfair one: I really missed eating pirão with the moqueca, farofa and rice. It’s a texture thing, like wanting mashed potatoes with steak. Or whipped parsnips with…well, anything. It’s like, you got your hard grain (rice), you got your liquids (stew broth), now you need the gunk (pirão). And pirão is nothing more than the cassava flour mixed with broth from the moqueca and some other yummy ingredients. My fourth (and I think last) point: there was something in last night’s stew that made it less “bright” than those I ate in Brazil. I can’t put my finger on it…was it a lack of lime? Was it just too heavy? I don’t know and I wish I did.
All in all, though, the event was fantastic, the food was fantastic, and the caipifrutas after dinner very yummy indeed. Joe put forth a formidable effort, R was a great host, Amy a great girlfriend, and the guests were a mixed bag of interesting conversation. Couldn’t have asked for more. I’m looking forward to seeing R’s final renditions of the food we ate last night – what he decided to keep, what to scrap and what to modify to match Atlanta’s taste buds. I'll keep ya'll posted!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Sabres Orgasm
Guys. No really, guys.
Do you know what this is a picture of? Do you know how significant this is? Cause I certainly didn't believe it when I saw it.
This, everyone, is a picture of the four prickly pears that made it home with me all the way from Plaza Fiesta.
The story goes, I wanted to check out the Marshall's in PF because I thought that I would find some designer items that the Buford Highway population didn't know was designer. And I was right -- I found lots of PD&C, Sergio Valente and S4AM jeans. But thats another story... The point is, in my effort to find a parking space, I saw a few stores that were carrying traditional cowboy boots and hats, and being on a mission to find the best boots ever, I thought that hitting up these Mexican locales could be a good idea. That's not really the point, but hold on a sec and you'll see my point.
Now in all honesty, I thought that PF was a strip mall, and so I tried entering the stores from the outside entrances with little success. Little did I know, PF is in fact an enclosed mall (that just so happens to be in the theme of a south-of-the-border cowboy outpost) and the stores located within can only be entered from inside. And so after my Marshall's excursion, I continued in the direction of the boot store (just to find out that these "traditional" Mexican boots cost upwards of $400) and glanced over the kiosks that were posted in the center of the main mall hall, when all of a sudden ---
I did a serious double take (one that could have been mistaken for involuntary whiplash) when I saw a few plastic containers with greenish fruit inside stacked near another stack of containers containing mixed fruit salad. I quickly concluded that there was no way that what I saw was for real,continued on my way, in disbelief that those greenish fruits could possibly be a reality on the continent of North America, but then turned right back around to inspect the vision that tured out to be....sabres!!
Sabres to me are prickly pears to you, but what is so significant about these sabres is that they are yellowish-greenish and not that awful magenta color that you normally see them in, here in the US. These sabres were from Israel, I'm telling you!! Ok, maybe not, but please let me be all nostalgic about it because I am really excited about this.
Here's the deal: in the middle of PF, there is a woman that sells all sorts of fruit in plastic containers (the kind that flip open and are normally used at salad bars). Trust that I didn't notice much beyond the sabres, but what did end up in my field of vision was the mixed fruit, coconut slices and mango, all peeled and ready to go. She'll ask you in Spanish if you want crema or sugar or cinnamon or honey on your fruit, charge you $3 and send you off on your merry way. And boy was I merry! I took my virgin sabres home with me (one didn't even make it to my car) and sliced one open for you to see.
I'm all tingly just thinking about it!
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Greekish Salad
So the deal is that I'm not really feeling the feta cheese that my local Kroger store carries, and I don't want to resort to the stuff that is packed in olive oil, so I was feeling quite adventurous this past weekend when I picked up a slab of Fetiri, which I thought to be a cheese related to feta (since, like feta, it is also made of sheep and goat's milk) but is still significantly different (because it is called Fetiri and not feta).
I go ahead and make a salad using this Fetiri, throw in some vine tomatoes, red leaf lettuce, red onion, hot house cucumbers and oregano, toss it with some olive oil, white wine vinegar and S&P, and SURPRISE! I have a Greek salad for dinner.
"Isn't a Greek salad make with feta?" you ask.
"Turns out this so called Fetiri, with a capital F, is really a feta cheese disguised with some herbs and spices," I say.
True, I was disappointed by this revelation, but at the end of the day, my salad was pretty kick-ass (if I may say so myself). I really considered writing out a recipe for this salad, being that so far I have not included any original Cousit concoctions, but really guys, if you needed a recipe for this you wouldn't be reading food blogs, now would you. I didn't think so.
Perhaps the few grains of wisdom I could add would be to:
a) Slice the cuke down lengthwise and scoop out the seeds from the center. Chop as you wish, then place in a colander and sprinkle some salt (sea, kosher, table, fleur de, whatev) on top. Toss, and let sit as you prep the rest of the ingredients. This process will dry out the cukes and prevent your salad from becoming too watery. This trick is especially effective when making tzatziki or a chilled cucumber-yogurt soup.
b) Add some za'atar (a middle eastern spice mix made of sumac, sesame seeds, wild thyme or hyssop) if you don't have oregano. It gives the salad a very nice woodsy taste. On second thought, if you don't have oregano, you probably don't have za'atar, so make sure you go out and buy some from your local farmer's market.
c) I don't have a c. But "few" = more than 2, so there you go.
And that's all, folks. The final verdict on the Fetiri is....that it is good. Good like feta. Good like any sheep and goat's milk cheese from Thessaly, Greece aged two months in brine. Nothing spesh, nothing fabu, just....plain old feta.
Monday, August 22, 2005
The Rebirth of Canton House
On the way to China Delight last weekend, under the impression that Canton House was still closed for renovation, I noticed that our faithful dim sum location had, in fact, reopened its doors. And so my sister and I ventured back up Buford Highway this past Saturday to have some translucent shrimp dumplings and siu mai, under fancy schmancy chandeliers and on top of a new hard wood dance floor.
Although the space has transformed quite a bit, the food remains the same. Exactly the same. No new and improved anything. The service, however, seemed to have been lacking, and I attribute this to the fact that there were carts that never made it past our table. Now, I don't really care if I don't have my fish balls or sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves, but to not have siu mai or crystal shrimp dumplings? That's a sin!
After being offered dishes from the cart jam-packed with tripe and braised chicken feet that had, by that time, paused by our table at least five times, I asked our waiter to fetch the girl with her cart piled high with circular metal steamers within which the highly anticipated dumplings were happily keeping warm. From where we were sitting (near the stage loaded with DJ equipment and effect lighting) it seemed as though she was putting up a fight, and twenty minutes later my sister and I gave up on the dream. We did, however, venture to try the barbecued pineapple bun, pictured above.
So while Canton House is probably still figuring out cart path efficiency and working on getting the AC to cool the entire dining room, I would hold off of returning to this dim sum institution until they have it functioning like it used to before the reno. What about Happy Valley in the meantime?
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Pung Mie, please?
There isn't much to see there, is there. It's probably even a little gross of me to post this picture. I'm sorry. I've failed at my first attempt to visually capture the Chinese-Korean fusion dinner I had last night up in Doraville at Pung Mie . You see, as I passed Clairmont Rd. on my journey north on Buford Hwy., I realized I had forgotten my nifty digital camera, and only after I was jam packed with fried dumplings, shrimp in hot tomato sauce and Mongolian beef did it even occur to me to use the camera function on my celli.
So there you have it, a whole lot of empty plates. Good sign, no? I mean, we were only four-and-a-half girls eating, and we managed to clean off all the plates. Not a single ring of green onion was left as evidence from the vinegary hot braised chicken. Not a slice of sea cucumber from the shredded pork with mushrooms and shrimp. Not a flavor was left in our three-flavored salad. Nothing!
While you will find some ubiquitous Chinese dishes like orange chicken and the sweet and sours, Pung Mie also offers up some shredded jellyfish, tripe and pig's knuckles for the more adventurous. The watermelon wedges that came with the check was a very nice touch, I thought. So the verdict is, I'll definitely be back, next time for some shrimp with nida (which I hear is a green onion-like substance) and more of that Mongolian beef...did I taste a hint of bulgogi?
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Shout Outs
Hi ya'll, welcome to my first attempt at food blogging.
I really don't know how these things work, or if you will find the content of this site remotely interesting, but it is what it is. Or it will be what it will be. We'll see.
Considering how much time I spend online looking for interesting cheap eats in Atlanta, checking up on my favorite food blogs, figuring out what I'll be making for dinner or scheduling "Buford Highway Adventures" with Amy, Karen, Sarah and Charlotte, it's really about time. That is to say, I think about food more than I think about sex. I spend more time in the kitchen than I do in any other room in my apartment. I'll let the shower get all moldy and gross but can't deal with the sight of a dirty dish in the sink or a spot of tomato sauce on the stove. I have more memorable meals than I do memorable memories.
So here we are, I guess partly thanks to Adam, whose recent post got me goin'.
(Oh my god, was that my first link to a blogger? Will he notice? Will he care? Will he ever link back?)
At some point in the future I will figure out how to link to the other bloggers that help me procrastinate during the workday, inspire me to move to Europe so that I can purchase and consume the way-tastier-than-our-American-hormone-treated produce, and motivate me to create new culinary treats. Maybe I'll even share my mom's secret whiskey cake recipe (gasp!) to which I was sworn to secrecy....but only if prove yourselves worthy (hence, leave your comments so I know you are reading).
Otherwise, that's it for now. I have every intention to bring my camera with me tonight to this Korean-Chinese fusion restaurant on the Highway, and I hope that I'll be able to muster up enough courage to take photos of the food that my dearest (and hottest) Korean gals will order for me. In the meantime, I'm out. Like a fat girl in dodgeball.
I really don't know how these things work, or if you will find the content of this site remotely interesting, but it is what it is. Or it will be what it will be. We'll see.
Considering how much time I spend online looking for interesting cheap eats in Atlanta, checking up on my favorite food blogs, figuring out what I'll be making for dinner or scheduling "Buford Highway Adventures" with Amy, Karen, Sarah and Charlotte, it's really about time. That is to say, I think about food more than I think about sex. I spend more time in the kitchen than I do in any other room in my apartment. I'll let the shower get all moldy and gross but can't deal with the sight of a dirty dish in the sink or a spot of tomato sauce on the stove. I have more memorable meals than I do memorable memories.
So here we are, I guess partly thanks to Adam, whose recent post got me goin'.
(Oh my god, was that my first link to a blogger? Will he notice? Will he care? Will he ever link back?)
At some point in the future I will figure out how to link to the other bloggers that help me procrastinate during the workday, inspire me to move to Europe so that I can purchase and consume the way-tastier-than-our-American-hormone-treated produce, and motivate me to create new culinary treats. Maybe I'll even share my mom's secret whiskey cake recipe (gasp!) to which I was sworn to secrecy....but only if prove yourselves worthy (hence, leave your comments so I know you are reading).
Otherwise, that's it for now. I have every intention to bring my camera with me tonight to this Korean-Chinese fusion restaurant on the Highway, and I hope that I'll be able to muster up enough courage to take photos of the food that my dearest (and hottest) Korean gals will order for me. In the meantime, I'm out. Like a fat girl in dodgeball.
