Savannah II: Miller time

Not surprisingly, some of the places we seem to enjoy the most while traveling are pubs. We can be fairly social people when we want and a great way to be casually social is to park yourself at the bar in a pub; we are also very into going local when we travel and not being the typical tourist. We are more likely to be seated at the bar having a conversation with that drunk guy than out taking the "Midnight in the Garden of Good and evil" tour. Neither one of us was raised in or around pubs, like most Americans I was raised that alcohol was very very bad until you were 21 for some reason and that bars were for loser drunks. So of course I stole booze as a teen. Living briefly in a country where pubs were the social focal point of the community gave me a glimpse into a mode of living that was very cool to me. Its not about the alcohol, its really the sense of the community that most people my age never had as we were all raised in generic suburbia, never knew our neighbors, and only had TV and malls as our social outlets. And I like beer.

In Savannah, famous for its pubs and even more famous for its St. Patrick's Day binge, we felt more at home in the pubs than the restaurants. The tasty wild Georgia shrimp were not limited to the high end restaurants, in fact the tasty shrimp were pretty much everywhere food was served. At Churchill's Pub my husband had a shrimp pasta dish that actually tasted better than the shrimp at the recommended River St. place. I fed my inner Brit with a small but filling chicken-stilton pie, tasting pretty average for pub food. Churchill's had a great selection of draft and bottled British beers, and even offered half-pints which I know are for girls but I am a girl! I miss being able to get half-pints mainly because I like to taste as many different flavors as possible, I'd pick off other peoples' plates if they let me. The pub was huge, with a basement and seating on the roof; overall the atmosphere was lovely and pub-like but not really small enough for our tastes being so near the touristy stuff, and the food was decent but not a Savannah memory to savor.

Next door to the Churchill's was the local brew pub the Moon River Brewery. The in-house brewery served up some nice beers with the porter and wit beer being real stand outs. While we weren't terribly hungry when we visited, we did want to try the Bombay Turkey Minis. Three cute little turkey-curry-ginger burgers served up with some tasty curry 'aioli' were just the kind of interesting pub munchies we are always on the lookout for. Not only did they sound great, they were the perfect yummy little pub snack for people who are sick of chips and don't want to drop $20 on some fussy gastro-pub truffle-wasabi nachos. The atmosphere could have been cozier, but with the brewery's proximity to the touristy areas we assumed that the place could get pretty slammed so they needed the space and the slightly aloof young waitstaff.

It was in the little Scottish pub
Mollie MacPherson's that we found our Savannah pub home. Originally we were planning a ghost pub crawl as the concession to tourism, but upon seeing the our fellow crawlers our scorn overrode our desire for tourism. By the time the frat kids or middle-aged non-drinking ladies all arrived, we had already settled into our seats with some lovely beer and a lovely sarcastic publican to chat with. Plus we calculated the tour cost with how much more we could drink, the drink won. Mollie's has a nice selection of Scottish beers, and of course lots of scotch availible by the glass or in small groups as a flight. Either way, the scotch seemed to dear to me so I chose beer to blow my money on. We came and went for two nights, we were nodded to by not only barstaff but also by the obvious regular in the corner working on the great American novel. This small pub off the well-trod path felt like a real community center with its large central fireplace. The menu was standard with a few Scottish dishes. The smoked salmon rolls were cool and refreshingly full of fat but the lightly greased and fried potato scones were perfect with the sweet rasberry jam. The scones were just filling enough to help us sober up but did not make us feel full or artery-clogged. The dessert was not so much, but being able to drink Innis and Gunn and Fraoch (for cheaper than ATL) was a small price to pay. Mollie MacPherson's: if we lived in Savannah, that would OUR pub.

Sarcasm on the road: Savannah

Since our planned vacation of an Alaskan cruise complete with all-you-eat food fell through, we recently went to Plan B and decided to visit some nearby towns to cross them off our list. First stop: Savannah.

Friends have often told us we'd like the town's style, not to mention food. We imagined a smaller New Orleans; complete with old buildings, walkable neighborhoods, scary tourists, and good food. Three out of four is not bad. Savannah is very walkable, even in July it is much cooler than the hell we are used to from Florida, and we wanted to be able to easily walk off the food. Getting a good mid-week summer rate from the Savannah Bed and Breakfast overlooking Chatham Square downtown, we were ready to explore.


Not being terribly prepared since this was a last minute trip, we went ahead and asked a local for a cheapish fish house recommendation. Twenty minutes later we found ourselves wandering in tourism purgatory (River St) and ate at Tubby's on River Street.
Yes, it has a nice patio overlooking the river and the throngs. Yes, it has fish. But we were very disappointed in the bad service, the worse salad, and the overpriced average fish. I'm not sure what our appetizer would have tasted like as we never got it, my broiled shrimp platter was tolerable but not a good value, my husband had overbreaded grouper fingers, and both of us found the frozen centers of our corn on the cob. Given how long it took us to get the food, at least it could have been uniformly warm. Perhaps if we didn't grow up near the ocean and thus know the value and taste of fresh seafood, we would have been happy chugging some beer and munching on fried shrimp with microwaved corn.

Generally, we are not the kind of people who get attitude at a coffeehouse, we exude aloof hipness at all times so we were a little surprised at getting treated like loud fat Americans at a Parisian cafe. Perhaps we were not wearing enough black or took too long looking at the menu (horrors!) for the surly girl at the Sentient Bean. The weary sighs and rolled-eyes "You haven't been here before have you?" could have been negated by good food. But no, and we were 0-2. The ciabetta sandwiches were pretty crappy. The bread was thick and gummy. The substance that was supposed to be pesto pretty much tasted only of the canned garlic used in its creation. The eggplant was leathery, the olives were so sparingly doled out you'd think we were on rations, and the salad dressing was very tart and there was way too much of it. Even sharing 2 different sandwiches between us we could not feel good about our choice. The house coffee and limeade were good at least, but that wasn't helping my garlicky burps later on. Maybe we caught them on a bad day, certainly the other staff we watched were not as surly as ours, or maybe this a place for coffee and hanging out. Not for food.

All is not lost. A spot of hope appears in the unlikliest of places. We drove out a little ways to get some saltwater action and ended up on Tybee Island which really isn't an island. It was low tide so in order to get our feet wet and out of the burning sand, we had to cross the very full midweek beach. Sick of being thwarted for seafood, we hoped that Fannie's on the Beach would offer some tasty food. Honestly, I think I picked the place because it had the least hideous website of many Tybee places I'd seen.

What visit to Savannah would be complete without a mention of Paula Deen's Lady and Sons restaurant? The website even tells you to start standing in line at 9:30 for lunch at 11, and 3:30 for dinner at 5, but I didn't believe it until I saw it.

10AM on a Wednesday morning. Screw that. No place can have consistently good food and have that high of a turnover. I realize its mostly a buffet, but for $diety's sake, its still just a meat + 3. Its not like Paula Deen is there in the kitchen, and its not like I can't get great meat +3s here in Atlanta or pretty much any town in the freaking South.

*Its not all bad news, Savannah's good pubs are reviewed next!

Mediterranean Grill

Sometimes, especially in the summer, I get an overwhelming craving for Hummus and/or Falafels. These gastronomical delights fuel my fantasies of desert adventures, a la T.E. Lawrence, as well as just being great summer food. Unfortunately, the relative low cost and mistaken ease of making both items has led more than a few restaurants to add them to their menu; the result being a general lowering of our expectations of these simple delights. Good hummus should be creamy but firm, with just a hint of lemon and garlic. “Hummus expansion packs” like black bean, sun dried tomato, etc. can be good but should be approached with trepidation, as often these are made to cover up a fundamental weakness in the starting product. A good falafel has a crispy outer coating with a soft interior, not unlike a properly made hushpuppy, and should leave a thin layer of oil on the lips, a reminder of its fried origins. Bad falafels run the gamut from rock hard greasy heavy balls to undercooked runny interiors. Unlike hummus in which additions can produce interesting, sometimes even good results, falafel “variants” such as the addition of corn or soybeans (I do not kid) just do not work. Somehow these great tastes have gone the way of the quiche: kitchen sink foods for the disposal of yesterday’s leftovers.

For roughly a decade Mediterranean Grill, on the corner of N. Decatur and Clairmont, has been teaching by example providing some of the best hummus and falafels to be found in the area. Falafels, in sandwiches or on a platter are made to order and are always warm and crispy. The hummus is platonic: slightly tangy, creamy, and cool. These guys also make a mean baba ghanoush (creamy eggplant salad) and a fantastic tabbouleh, a fantastic salad of bulgur wheat, mint, parsely, scallions, and tomato. For non vegetarians, the gyros are some of the best I’ve ever had, the chicken has a nice smoky flavor, and the kufta kabobs (spiced ground beef sausages) are fantastic. Turkish coffee is made to order and richly spiced with cardamom.

While the good far outweighs the bad at this restaurant it would be wrong of me to ignore those points where Mediterranean Grill falls short. The salads are made from iceberg lettuce, a bed of spicy field greens or an arugula salad would be a far better pairing. The fried calamari is overly chewy, and tastes like it is the frozen and pre-breaded variety. The stuffed grape leaves are dripping with oil and share the same “pre-made” feel as the calamari. Finally, the “Greek potatoes” feel like a feeble attempt to satisfy people’s need for fries and the staff would do well to tell those people to piss off and eat some tabbouleh instead.

Prices are good with most of the platters running around $8 and sandwiches around $4-6. Large servings of hummus are a meal in their own right, and come in around $4. Order at the counter, take a number, and bus you own table, there are no servers here, only an opportunity to support a local restaurant trying to educate the masses about some grossly misunderstood food.

Old Favorite

Holy crap, its been a freaking month! Anyway, on to food.

Ironically, one of our consistently excellent eats is also the one place I have The Most trouble getting Drew to visit. Every time I suggest Cafe Alsace, I hear "I'm not in the mood" or some other whiny variant. Mood??? Mood is for cattle and loveplay!

Then when I do manage to get him there and satiated with Alsatian cuisine I hear, "Why don't we come here more often?" And then I smack him and he whines again. So emo.

We can start with the pate. Mmmm....homemade pate. Being the hippie I am, this is one of those times where I don't give a crap how many cute little animals were ground up into this block of goodness, the green police can kick me out of Sierra club. It is worth it. During the summer, I tremble with anticipation for the canteloupe/mint chilled soup. Unable to truly duplicate it myself, it has a simple and fresh flavor that is perfect for a hot day.

Since Alsace is damn near Germany not surprisingly, the spaetzle is very tasty. I tend to enjoy the sweeter flavors of the seafood selection and it's warm comfort gives me a fuzzy feeling. The dishes you would think are heavy, an onion creme tart with anise-flavored crust for instance, are reasonably sized and are balanced in their rich flavors. The various crepes and quiche du jour also straddle that fine line between voluptuous evil and antacid time.

Miscellany includes a small but select wine list. Most of the wines actually make sense for the cuisine, there are no out of place trendy wines with trendy names or bottle images designed to rope in Gen Xers like...errr...yeah.

Maybe since we go in the middle of the week, but our lovely place is usually pretty quiet and we are served by the very nice co-owner. If we are lucky and it is very slow we get to see the surly head chef/owner wander out and snarl, or we get to hear yelling or French hip-hop from the kitchen.

Overall, this a place where the flavors are subdued and relaxed, you do not get smacked in the head with a heavy hand as with some French dishes. The ambiance is also very mellow, you will get your food...sometime. We actually prefer restaurant service this way; not kissing our ass, not hovering, not trying to be our friend, and not trying to turn the table. We'd go to Chili's or some other crappy chain if we wanted that. Just be calm. Eat, relax, eat some more. You can pretend you are in Europe. Except there is alot more ice in the water.

White Castle vs. Krystal Or At Least the South Doesn’t Rise Again

I am often amazed with the obsession so many have with the Civil War, or War of Northern Aggression. Over a century later the impact of this conflict is still felt on both sides of the Mason-Dixon Line (The MDL) cementing certain cultural differences. Several of these deep and fundamental divergences have been well documented, sweet vs. unsweet tea for instance, but one area that has been largely ignored is Fast Food. “Fast Food?” you say? Surely, McDonald’s and Taco Bell are ubiquitous on both sides of The MDL nor does the King (and I don’t mean Elvis) let his domain be dictated by such delineations. However, these corporate giants are rarely where most turn for food after a night of heavy drinking. Either their hours are not amenable, the number of menu items too high, or the food too precarious for a liquor lined stomach. What to do? If you are too drunk to make it to a diner, or your designated driver is unwilling to inflict you on the staff, there is a fast food choice that will suffice: Krystal or as it is called across the Northern side of The MDL, White Castle. But are they the same? Herein we will explore these two fast food champions of the drunken food world and maybe just maybe in doing so we will heal some of our nation’s wounds and close the cultural divide across The MDL.


A few weekends ago I went to Kentucky for an amazing wedding of two very awesome people; so a special thanks to J & B who made this review possible. A wedding reception packed with graduate students promised to be an alcohol heavy event so like all good drinkers I looked for the “drunk food” places adjacent to our hotel room. There it was… White Castle. Prior to moving to Atlanta I had lived all my life in North Florida and had never had the opportunity to eat at the Northern equivalent to Krystal, a drunk food favorite of mine. A Krystal is small square burger with a thin slice of steamed ‘meat’, topped with onions (disturbingly referred to as “Flavor crystals” by some), dropped onto a flavorless bun, and served with mustard (which proves a subtle and vital “tang”) and pickle. Cheese is an additional option but is really not negotiable so for the rest of this article when I refer to the burgers I mean topped with cheese. In my opinion the Krystal should just come with cheese and you should have to ask to have it removed. Sober, these little burgers are greasy, salty, and frankly horrifying. Drunk, each burger has just the right amount of grease: A LOT. Remember that drunk food needs to hit you on the head with its flavor since your taste buds might be fine but you have become a goddamn idiot. Less than 4 burgers will probably not be enough while more than 6 will probably push a tumultuous tummy over the edge.

So how does White Castle stack up? With several hours to go before the rehersal dinner we sauntered over to the White Castle to give it the sober taste test. My first thought was the White Castle was a little less greasy, a little more salty, and the onions a little more flavorful. As sober food this was certainly a little better than Krystal and the addition of mustard from an available packet made this a tasty little snack. However, left to my own devices I would rarely (read as never) hunt out either of these joints for a sober meal so who really cares? How does White Castle stack up drunk?

After a great wedding reception and a bus ride back to the hotel I staggered over the White Castle and order six “slyders” (the Krystal equivalent) with cheese (They too don’t realize the necessity of the cheese on their burgers) then headed back up to my hotel room with a few packets of mustard. I tore through the first two, forgetting the mustard obviously, happy as a clam because I had my drunk food. However, when I started tearing into my third burger it hit me. The grease level was too low. These burgers were leaving me unsatisfied both emotionally and physically. This was not drunk food but barely passable fast food in disguise. Such deceit is not surprising from White Castle, a company which early in its inception paid young men to dress in doctor’s coats to trick the public into thinking their food was healthy since medical professionals dined there. In the morning I awoke to find I had only eaten four of the burgers and terrible heartburn, a phenomenon that does not occur from a feast of Krystals. That morning I also learned the origin of the nickname ‘Slyders’ for these burgers…. I will say no more on that subject.

In conclusion, White Castle invented these little burgers but Krystal perfected them for drunken consumption. The lack of grease makes White Castle burgers unsatisfying when drunk. The chain has also forgotten that drunk people are not going to take the time to add the mustard which their burger sorely needs. If White Castle really wants to step into the drunken food market they should start serving all their burgers with mustard after midnight.

How about a mimosa for my little samosa?

Given that Atlanta is in fact a vibrant and ethnically diverse metropolis, we do have our fair share of good Indian restaurants. While we have not tasted every single restaurant in metro Atlanta, we've eaten enough curries and dosai to be able to pick a few favorites. Most of these places will be in Decatur, and this isn't just because we are lazy, Decatur happens to have a massive Indian community with strip malls of food and shops. The local thrift store has discarded saris on a daily basis!

For pure vegetarian cuisine we love Udipi Cafe, this place serves lovely non-greasy south indian vegetarian fare and even has a buffet that I happily partake of. I adore Udipis' breads and recommend all of their curries, the Dal Tadaka is especially flavorful.

Meat eaters can get their fix at one of two places we highly recommend; Bollywood Masala, or Zyka. Bollywood Masala has great atmosphere; a large screen playing bollywood videos and extra large bollywood star posters overlook modernist inspired furniture and starry wallpaper. The comparison to an Indian video store has been made by many. While the food is generally the same as most other places, a few standouts need to be mentioned: tandoori paneer and this interesting fish curry that I wish I could remember the name of. The waiter mentioned it might be too strong or too fishy, but it was one of the most interesting things on the menu. Overall the food is good but not great and we come for the hot bollywood hip gyrations.

Zyka is a cafeteria style place in a Montessori school. Sounds like the beginning of a joke...but their spicy chicken 65 is no joke. Eat the butter chicken! Feel the arteries clogging! The butter chicken is seriously tasty, I have to eat it at least once a year but stay away from the eggplant dish unless you feel like sweating or blowing your nose...that stuff is too spicy even for me who once cooked a dish so spicy I made people hallucinate. Zyka is also very fast and very cheap. Just thought I'd throw that in.

Bhojanic offers something a little different for the average American indian food eater. Yes, fusion and tapas are generally two words that make us run screaming from a place since usually those words are synonymous with 'fad' and 'suck'. Bhojanic isn't either of these, its actually pretty good. Not everything is a hit, the all you can eat Thursday tapas menu does get boring and the thalis are woefully average. Almost all of the tapas and chat are worth a taste, especially the pakora and almost anything with the chickpea-cilantro duo. While the thalis are average, when fresh tilapia makes the fish curry taste above and beyond the curry of duty. Oh yes, I went there.

Drew's honorable mention buffet: Chat Patti.

Woodfire Grill: How do I love thee?

Taking a break from writing about tasty artery clogging food, next up for discussion is our personal all-time Atlanta favorite place to spend too much money. So far. After all, we have not hit the ‘big guns’ of ATL like Bacchanalia, Joel, Seeger’s (rip), or the Ritz. Without further ado we present: WoodFire Grill.

Not many places are so focused on the food ‘values’ we have come to admire and agree with (still talking about food here, not politics). Chef Tuohy utilizes local, seasonal, and/or organic ingredients in the ever changing menu. We have been able to spend a significant amount of time slowly sampling our way through 4-5 course meals; lingering over some local and exotic cheeses, sipping wine or perhaps port during dessert. We never feel rushed by the impeccably timed wait-staff, and we never feel too old or too young in the comfortably dim interior. The focus of quality instead of speed and trendiness sets this restaurant apart from all the other pricey wasabi-poblano truffle-oiled whipped potato reduction places.

You can taste the difference between a quality, fresh ingredient over something that has just been marinated overnight to hide the poor quality or age. A whole wood-oven roasted trout in a light butter sauce tasted so pure that I literally expected the waiter to be handing some grizzled old fisherman a twenty. During the spring, the minted pecorino fava beans were a revelation. The portion sizes are neither overwhelming nor insulting, and the ‘sides’ are complimentary without overpowering (grits, potatoes, and delicately flavored vegetables abound). Woodfire tempts us into trying flavor combinations we would normally question: who knew beets with blue cheese would taste so good? The common factor in all of the menu items rests in the subtle simplicity of the flavors. Just because something doesn’t have 10 different flavors clamoring for attention doesn’t mean it isn’t wonderful. Atlanta has a lot of ‘hip’ restaurants, and we appreciate and like those places with the exposed bricks and bizarre steel sculptures; but ultimately we will suggest Woodfire Grill with its superior ingredients and ingenious taste.

Other menu items we’ll drool over:
any cheese. There are no bad cheeses.
free-range chicken
frito misto
any anti-pasto item
duck with seasonal fruit-related sauce (currently fig + peaches)