Grindhouse Killer Burgers, Atlanta GA

Wow. You can really see the malaise creeping in everywhere. There really is a backlash against burger places in Atlanta. I think the hawt new trend right now is frozen yogurt places – Lord knows why – and so news like the opening of Grindhouse Killer Burgers’ second location is met with rolled eyes and collective yawns. The original is a lunch-only place on Edgewood in the Sweet Auburn Curb Market. I confess that I’ve never been there, nor to any curb market for that matter, but seriously, a good burger is worth celebrating, no matter how many burger joints this city has.

Tell me that Chicago foodies don’t act like this. Tell me that nobody in the Windy City acts like they’re too cool for school when somebody opens a new place to get an Italian beef. Marie and I, we get interested and excited when we hear about someplace good to eat. As should you. If it’s a good burger, it should be talked about.

Grindhouse’s burgers are indeed pretty darn good, but they are also kind of small and pricey. This might end up being a bit tricky.

They’ve opened in a great location, right next door to that ridiculous car wash on Piedmont with the occasionally animatronic gorilla out front. There’s a large outdoor patio that might have tempted us on a cooler day, but with Atlanta suffering a heat wave and temperatures in the mid-90s, we stayed indoors. Marie, the baby and I stopped by on a Thursday just as they opened and just before a giant crowd from a nearby office came in and took forever to place their orders and then occupied about a third of the table space.

I really like the interior. There’s one wall near the restrooms with a huge white “blood” spatter that serves as the screen for a loop of godawful ’70s exploitation films. When we were there, the movie of the moment was one of those Golden Harvest films where ninjas fight monks, and men argue in serious subtitles about the superiority of Shaolin kung fu over modern martial arts. Sadly, two of the other TVs were showing that dumb game show set in a taxi. It sort of dampened the mood.

The burgers were really good, but I was disappointed with the size. They’re about as big as the ones your middle school served, and for the $6.25 that I paid for my apache-style burger, it didn’t seem like I got very much. I was really hungry again a few hours later, anyway. I picked that burger based on a recommendation from our local alt-weekly Creative Loafing, who, last month, named it one of 100 Dishes to Eat in Atlanta Before You Die. With lots of oozy, melted pepperjack, onions and peppers, it’s sort of a patty melt on a hamburger bun. It was excellent, but too darn small. Nevertheless, I’m curious about some of the other concoctions on the menu. I might have to try the one with pimento cheese and fried green tomatoes sometime soon. Marie had a burger with cheddar, lettuce, tomato and avocado and was also pleased, and we shared some mighty good crinkle-fries that were perfectly crispy and salty.

But the thing that tipped it from “good but disappointing” into “we’ll be back again” was the chocolate malt. Marie was raving about that thing all day. She says, wildly, that it was an even better chocolate malt than the one she had the week before at Chapman Drugs in Hapeville. Hmmm. Yes, I wish you got a little more meat for your money here, but you can’t argue with a chocolate malt that good, I suppose. I guess that I’ll be having one of those Dixie burgers sooner rather than later.

Saravanaa Bhavan and Mirch Masala, Decatur GA

It has been several months since I went out for any Indian food. Longtime readers might recall that my favorite Indian restaurant in the region, Roswell’s Moksha, had closed, and I made a couple of fitful attempts to find a replacement. I found some pretty good food, but nothing remarkable, and I got a little discouraged and bored and resumed finding more barbecue and burger places.

In April, writing for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution‘s “Food and More” blog, Gene Lee recommended three Indian restaurants in Decatur. This was part of the blog’s “Spring Dining 2011” guide and got me thinking. Maybe Marie and I could do a tour of all three one Saturday…?

Well, I was sort of stymied here, as Marie really doesn’t care all that much for Indian food. You’ll notice she has been absent from this blog’s few trips to Indian restaurants. She does like a little curry powder with her chicken salad, but otherwise most of that region’s cuisine does not appeal to her. Nevertheless, she agreed that we could give it a try if I would compromise and drop it to two restaurants. We took the baby and my older son and our good buddy David along and figured out the best way to plan these two lunches.

First up, we went to a vegetarian restaurant, where we planned that Marie would have a full meal, I would have an appetizer, and our older son would drum his fingers impatiently and wait for his larger meal at the next destination. I was sweet; I let him have an order of plantain bhaji that was quite delicious and had a nice level of spice to it.

Saravanaa Bhavan is the second restaurant by that name to occupy this space. The earlier version closed in 2008 and was bought by an international chain of hotels and vegetarian restaurants. This particular location doesn’t actually have any guest rooms, but the chain itself is kind of like a Howard Johnson’s that specializes in dosa. This is a huge, thin filled crepe and I think of it as a counterpoint to an uthappam, which is thicker, like a pancake. There’s a big window into the kitchen where you can watch the staff make the dosas and other treats.

Taking Lee’s recommendation, Marie ordered the masala dosa, which is the crepe filled with a curried mashed potato. It’s enormous, and served with four different dipping sauces. She also had an order of buttered naan and this was more food than she felt like tackling. In her defense, unfortunately, the atmosphere here did her in. While the food was all indeed very good, the restaurant ruined the air inside with the most noxious, repugnant incense by the entrance. Frankly, we couldn’t wait to leave. My tomato and pea uthappam was genuinely good and I enjoyed the flavor of everything here, but I sure do wish that I could have enjoyed it in better circumstances.

On that note, “couldn’t wait to leave” has proven, in my experience, to be a common problem at Indian restaurants from here to Toronto. There has not been a one, except the ones where you pay up front, where flagging a server down to get a blasted check has not been a chore. Neither of the places that we visited on this trip were in a hurry to see us go. We wanted to leave Saravanaa Bhavan because the air stank. We wanted to leave Mirch Masala because we were stuffed.

My heart sank as we entered Mirch Masala, which is located about three minutes’ south of Saravanaa Bhavan. It’s one of those Indian restaurants that suggests upscale by way of nice napkins and tuxedo-clad servers, but it’s hopelessly artificial. The menus are in leather cases, but the laminate on the heavy paper pages is peeling, comically, as they fall apart. There’s a 15% service fee on tables of four. Not six; four. Frankly, I hated the place so much that the best Indian food I ever had wouldn’t bring me back. Then I had some of the best Indian food I ever had and I was conflicted.

Gene Lee had recommended the chicken tikka masala here and I wanted to try it. Unfortunately, it was not on the buffet – $9.95 for weekend lunch – but priced at $11.95 for an order. I bit the bullet and was completely thrilled with it. The chicken was tender and flavored and seasoned just perfectly, and served in a deep red sauce that reminded me of molten lava. “It looks,” observed my son and channeling Ralph Wiggum, “like… hot.” He wasn’t kidding. I’ve had more lethally spicy food than this, but not often. It was majestic.

Marie ordered some rice called kashimiri pullao (basmati rice cooked with dried fruit) that she enjoyed, and they gave her enough to last for a subsequent lunch. My son and David each enjoyed some of the food on the buffet, which included both curried goat and chicken, and a spinach paneer that David said was excellent and as good as he’d ever had it. Food-wise, this place really was a winner. It’s a shame they had to spoil it by giving us such pathetic service and presentation.

Adding insult to injury, it took us about fifteen minutes after finishing our food to get a check. I don’t think this is all that complicated, really.

I’ll try again in a few months. There has to be a place in town that will give me excellent Indian food outside of a plastic quasi-upscale environment with attentive service at a fair price. Somewhere.

(Note: Saravanaa Bhavan briefly closed at the end of 2012 before reopening as Madras Bhavan, no longer affiliated with the hotel Saravanaa chain. I understand that it is still a vegetarian restaurant.)

Pit Boss BBQ, Hapeville GA

In April, I visited Hapeville after work and had a very good lunch at Hambones. That restaurant is located within sight of Pit Boss BBQ, and I considered trying them both, but didn’t feel that I had room that trip. Everything worked out just fine, because while Marie is on maternity leave, she and I are getting the opportunity to enjoy a midweek lunch or two together on my short days. I wanted to bring her back down to Hapeville so that she could have a milkshake at Chapman Drugs, giving us the chance to stop by and see what Pit Boss had to offer.

This is yet another Atlanta barbecue place that doesn’t get very much attention from the foodies and bloggers in the region, but I think that it is definitely worth a visit. It has a very loyal customer base. I think that every Delta employee who could have fit inside the building tried to during our visit, and the staff seemed to know them all by name. Unfortunately, so many people arrived around 11:15 that at least one party got discouraged by the line and left. I hope they come back; they missed out on a good lunch.

Marie and I each had the chopped pork, which comes presauced with Pit Boss’s mild sauce. It’s a great mix; the meat is very smoky and full of flavor, and the sauce is incredibly sweet. However, there was a little more sauce than I would have liked, and I preferred the other table sauce, which was hotter, instead. It’s an odd case of very good food not quite prepared the way I would like it. For sides, we had Brunswick stew and fried green beans. Neither were exceptional, but perfectly good.

Honestly, I enjoyed the food at Hambones more, but where Pit Boss shines is just how incredibly friendly and upbeat and downright wonderful the staff is. At Hambones, which becomes similarly packed for a weekday lunch, I got the impression of the (somewhat larger) staff hunkering down for the madness, and was left to my own devices once my food arrived. The ladies on the front line at Pit Boss threatened to become overwhelmed with so many guests, but before things got crazy, we had a very good experience chatting with them and showing off our baby.

Interestingly, the staff was not able to clear up a little confusion about this place. There is (or was) a listing on Urbanspoon for a restaurant with the same address but a different name, Smokin’ Sam’s. I asked whether Pit Boss used to be that other store, and the girl said they were not, but that somebody else asked her that a few weeks previously. This space had once been the home of The Flying Pig in the 1990s, but never the disputed name. I wonder where that came from.

After lunch, as promised, I bought Marie a milkshake from Chapman’s. She got a double chocolate malted and I got the same amazing peach-n-vanilla malt that I enjoyed on my previous visit. Both were wonderful, but mine, honestly, was better. Would I lie to you? It was so much better that when we got back to my work to pick up my car, I realized that I had left my book inside. So I went to grab that and give a co-worker a sip. Man, Chapman mixes a good milkshake. I’m going to have to head back to Hapeville and eat somewhere else so I can justify another one of these.

Beaver Creek Biscuits and Barbeque, Lithia Springs GA

I think that, to hear Marie tell it, my worst habit might be my swearing, which she kindly suggests might have improved a little bit over the last few years. Since I try to write this blog for all audiences, I am very cautious about swearing or being offensive. That was not a consideration last week. See, I had been wanting to go to Beaver Creek for quite some time after reading Jon Watson in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution‘s “Food and More” blog rave about it, suggesting they might offer the best pulled pork around Atlanta. I had it on my calendar for a visit at the beginning of the month, but then the baby surprised us by arriving early, and I had to put it off. This worked out for the best; fortunately, with my older children off school, I could phone them – maybe I should get a data plan – and ask them where in greebledy-gronk sassin’-frassin’ tarnation this consarned dadburned barbecue place was. My older son had to navigate me here without using either Urbanspoon or Google.

See, Urbanspoon had the wrong address listed. Six Flags Drive, where this restaurant is not located, is north of I-20, off exit 46. The restaurant is actually on Six Flags Road, off exit 44 and just south of the interstate. But it gets worse. Google Maps – and yes, this is the second time in ten days that I am writing to report a failure there – had the wrong physical location of the (incorrect) address. Once I finally got to where 1451 Six Flags Drive should actually be, there was no restaurant there. Do you really blame me for cussing a blue streak?

So I had wasted valuable time and gasoline getting here, I had to talk my son into believing that it was more likely that the internet was actually wrong than I was not reading street signs correctly, and what’s more, this Harry Kemleman novel that I was reading had turned out to be one of the lousy ones. This was going to have to be some excellent barbecue to talk me down off this ledge. Happily, it was better than I hoped. About my only quibble, apart from the restaurant foolishly letting its website expire, is that this place definitely needs to pick one name and stick with it. This is more than just the expected idiosyncrasies in the spelling of “barbecue,” which our blog usually settles by going with the name on the building’s sign. Depending on where you are looking, this place is either called “Beaver Creek Biscuit Company,” “Turner’s Barbecue” or “Turner’s Store.” I’m going with “Beaver Creek Biscuits and Barbeque,” because that is what is on the staff’s T-shirts.

Although, between you and me, at home and with company, I am probably going to call this place “That Blankety-Blank Place Out By Six Flags That Nobody Can Freaking Find and I Drove Around for Half a Flippin’ Hour Looking For.” Well, that’s not entirely accurate. This place was absolutely packed by 11:30, drawing an enormous lunch rush from the businesses around Thornton Road, so plenty of people know where it is. Once you find this place, you’re not likely to forget it, for it is terrific. Watson was right; this is easily among the best, if not the outright, hands-down best, pulled pork in the region.

The pork itself is simply excellent, smoked just right and full of flavor. Accompanied by some decent fries and pretty good, oniony, Brunswick stew, it would have been a pleasant success without the sauces, but those turned some great meat into something memorable. Beaver Creek talks up what they call their Seminole sauce, a mustard-vinegar mix, surprisingly thin, and I really liked that. But the other sauce, the hot stuff, that’s what you’re going to want to sample. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen something like this at any of the barbecue places that I’ve tried. It’s a thick, bright orange sauce and it is the absolutely perfect accompaniment to this meat. Make sure that you order your pork plate pulled and dry so that you may experiment with each. I’m not sure what is in the hot sauce. Possibly mustard, peppers, and maybe a little mayo? Whatever, it was one of the most interesting finds that I have had on my barbecue travels. Also surprising was the complete lack of a tomato-based sauce. I’m pleased that they made that decision; it makes their business stand out a little more.

One other thing that I really liked was the inclusion of Fanta Cherry in the soda fountain. You never see that at restaurants other than Zaxby’s. One other thing that I didn’t really like so much was the unusual reaction of the woman cleaning the tables as she saw me snapping pictures of my lunch. She furrowed her brow and, with a hint of hostility and a drop of confusion, asked “Why are you taking pictures?”

If I had been reading Gregory Mcdonald, I might have introduced myself as Ted Nugent and told her I was from the health department. Fortunately, I was only reading a mediocre Harry Kemelman and told her, “My wife couldn’t be with me today. I want her to see what I’m having for lunch.”

She should probably get used to food bloggers taking photos here. Once the word gets out, a few more folk in this hobby might want to come out this way. Just remember, gang, south of I-20. I sent the address correction into Urbanspoon already.

The Sound Table and Café Intermezzo, Atlanta GA

Date night! Marie and I got a very pleasant surprise from her father when he came to visit last weekend. He gave us a big wad of money and told us to go enjoy each other’s company at a nice restaurant or two while he watched the children and read A.A. Milne to his new grandson. Unfortunately, I left it too late to make reservations at Two Urban Licks, so I went with a backup plan, The Sound Table. This is a popular new place, just starting its second year, at the intersection of Edgewood and Boulevard in the Old Fourth Ward neighborhood, and its chef and owners had previously collaborated on the popular Top FLR.

Marie and I enjoyed a very good meal here. We were early, before it apparently gets pretty loud, and got to enjoy some conversation without yelling across the table to each other. They have an amazing cocktail list here, for diners looking for something unusual. I was briefly tempted by a simple glass of Cointreau and orange juice – it really has been a while since I had one – but we just had water, as we almost always do.

Sound Table’s menu changes quarterly, and even then they make changes each evening based on what vegetables they can source, so guests will not have much luck reading blogs and getting ideas. That said, we did enjoy an appetizer of fried chickpeas salted with curry and a wonderful small serving of lamb meatballs with Roma tomatoes that got us ready for some excellent entrees. I ordered the hanger steak with a beet salad. This was very simple but so incredibly delicious. It was merely a small plate of arugula, beets, avocado slices and anchovies, but each complemented the other very well.

My meal was good enough that I did not quite get menu envy, but I came close. Happily, the perfectly seasoned steak was tasty enough to make it quite a standout. Marie enjoyed a grilled pork chop that was just heavenly, served over butter beans and greens. She also had a bowl – a huge one, as it turns out – of excellent cauliflower, cooked with red curry and peanuts. Everything was extremely tasty and appropriately portioned. This was a very good date night detination.

We passed on dessert, as I had planned to really give Marie’s sweet tooth a workout. Unfortunately, my desire to pick up some caramels from a reasonably new place called The Sugar-Coated Radical was foiled, as they closed earlier than I was planning. We will return some other time, now that we know to arrive before the dinner hour. We drove on instead to Café Intermezzo on Peachtree, near Collier, for some decadent cake, arriving just as the sun was going down.

One day, we might return to Café Intermezzo for a full meal; it certainly has an interesting menu. Speaking of which, the drinks menu here – or perhaps “beverage book” is more appropriate, as it’s a full fifty pages long – is just about the most overwhelming and mad thing that I’ve seen in ages. I’ve occasionally wondered whether there might be a place in town, other than the GSU dorms, that serves absinthe, and now I know. Since the days of me drinking myself stupid over some damn girl in French class are long gone, I’ll pass.

Café Intermezzo has a dessert showcase that rivals the ones we see in Cobb County at Marietta Diner and its sister places. A gigantic slice of cake here will run you about eight bucks and you know with every bite that you’re indulging in something sinful. I had choclate and Marie had cheesecake and, somewhere in the beverage book, we noticed that they sell bottles of Hank’s soda. I have been on a black cherry kick lately, although the cream soda that Marie enjoyed probably complmented her cake a little better. Although really, a tall glass of milk might have done just as well.

Eventually, we had to leave the patio and get back to the suburbs, and end our date night, as parents often do, swinging by the grocery store to pick up things for the kids. We’re just so romantic, you know.

Café de Paris, Marietta GA (CLOSED)

Last Friday, Marie’s father came to visit and to see his first grandchild. He’s been an awesome stepgrandfather to my older two kids, but this is the first grandbaby that he’s been able to cuddle and to whom he can read poems. It was a good visit, even if it did reinforce his negative feelings about Atlanta’s sprawl and traffic, and we enjoyed a couple of good meals while he was here.

He suggested that the six of us go to a French restaurant. Urbanspoon showed that Café de Paris was not very far from us and it had a good review from the enjoyable Atlanta Restaurant Blog, so that made our decision easy. Friday rush hour traffic through all this sprawl was still pretty awful, but we got there in about twenty minutes.

We all had very good meals here, although my daughter, still confused as to whether or not she actually likes coffee, found her cappuccino too bitter and had to add about a half-pound of Sugar in the Raw to it. Marie had Quiche Lorraine and her father had a shrimp carbonara dish. I had pan-fried grouper and my daughter had a Divan crepe, which comes with chicken, mushrooms and broccoli.

To be honest, the entrees all seemed very good, but I was most impressed by the soup. None of us had their lemon artichoke, which comes highly recommended, but we each had either the tomato basil or the shrimp and corn chowder, which was excellent. The chowder is not on the menu every day; it should be.

For desserts, most of us enjoyed the creme brulee, but Marie chose to have a strawberry crepe. I think she made the better choice. She was very pleased with it, and we were very pleased with the experience.

Traveling Fare, Marietta GA

This is Marie, contributing a chapter on Traveling Fare, or rather more specifically Paul’s Pot Pies. It may seem a little odd considering that it’s May in Georgia, but we had a couple of very cool days that made a baked hot pie something to look forward to as an evening meal. My mother had come to visit and wanted to offer a treat, and this was just the thing.

Traveling Fare is a local Marietta business that has been around for over a quarter of a century. You can go to the small storefront just off the Square and get a lunch, or buy some of the pot pies to take home and bake for dinner.

Our latest opportunity to try these came when my mother came up to visit our new baby and wanted to provide a no-fuss meal that would still let her enjoy his company. Since the little guy tends to be a bit fussy around dinner time (probably the only time of day he regrets the whole milk diet thing) and needs extra care and attention then to be happy, a meal we could pop into the oven and forget about for an hour was just the thing.

I have to admit I would never have given them a try if it weren’t for the Marietta Square Farmer’s Market. There’s nothing like a free sample for making you want to go spend money to get more of what you just tasted. They are a regular at the market and show up with large casserole dishes that let them give quite respectably-sized samples. The pies themselves are really cute, with a hand-cut flower made out of pastry dough decorating each one.

I don’t know how many of our readers might have spent some of their starving-student or strapped-newlywed meal budget on those under-a-dollar frozen soup-with-a-crust things that went by the name of pot pie and would therefore flinch away from the mere idea. These are not those pies; these are something delectable and substantial, filling and a pleasure to eat. Also, aside from the traditional chicken or beef stew-type varieties, you can get Jambalaya with sausage and rice, creole shrimp with lots of shrimp, and several other varieties. I’m a fan of comfort food and have to admit that the chicken is my favorite, but the rest of my family prefers the Jambalaya. I haven’t had the opportunity to try all the flavors yet, but so far there hasn’t been one that was unsatisfactory or even slightly disappointing.

The storefront is quite small, and the bulk of the business seems to be take-out and catering, but if you choose to have lunch there you can chat with Paul behind the counter. The lunch menu includes some intriguing salads that I should check out soon. He’s quite friendly and willing to tell you about his products or just talk.