Article 14, Atlanta GA (CLOSED)

We were invited to visit Article 14 in midtown on the occasion of a new fall menu spearheaded by the executive chef, Chris Blobaum. Article 14 is one of a small number of places in town owned by Legacy Restaurant Partners, including a trio of well-known places at Marietta Street and Baker downtown: Der Biergarten, Stats, and the really good Max’s Coal Oven Pizza, one of our city’s most underrated pizza joints. Continue reading “Article 14, Atlanta GA (CLOSED)”

Villains Wicked Heroes, Atlanta GA (CLOSED)

One of my other blogs is a tribute to the British comic 2000 AD, and I recently finished writing a story there about what we might term believable villainy. Meanwhile, at the intersection of Peachtree and 8th Street in Midtown, a new restaurant called Villains opened last month. It draws its design elements from unbelievable villainy, celebrating comic book arch-enemies and box office bad guys. If you’re looking for a place to meet up with another member of the Legion of Doom and discuss your nefarious schemes for global domination, then this might be the place for you. Continue reading “Villains Wicked Heroes, Atlanta GA (CLOSED)”

License to Spill at the Dogwood Festival

We’re breaking away from our usual chronological format to talk about what we did this past Saturday, so that – hopefully – we can let some friends and readers up the road know about an event traveling in their direction. The syndicated Better Show – shown locally on CBS affiliate WGCL – has teamed up with sponsor Mohawk Flooring for a tour called License to Spill, and they’ve been showing up at festivals and fairs eating messy food and, at some stops, smearing this messy food all over carpet samples to demonstrate that no matter what homeowners can do to their floor, Mohawk carpets can be cleaned. We rarely go in for product testimonials here, but I can truly say that when I lived in Oconee County some years ago, and the then-baby girlchild and her older brother routinely tossed their chocolate milk everywhere, I wished that we had carpet that cleaned like I saw this stuff. Continue reading “License to Spill at the Dogwood Festival”

Empire State South, Atlanta GA

So, if we were to put together a chart of Atlanta restaurants that I was long overdue for sampling, Hugh Acheson’s Empire State South must surely be near the top of the list. It has been open for about two years, and just about everybody else that I read has paid them a visit already, and, despite liking Acheson’s food on the considerable strength of Five & Ten in Athens, I just hadn’t found the right opportunity to swing by. So a few Thursdays back, when the New Orleans Saints were in town for a game, I decided that I was overdue and then made my way by for lunch. Continue reading “Empire State South, Atlanta GA”

Bloggers Invade Veni Vidi Vici

This is Marie, contributing an article about a higher-end place than we usually attend. Not for lack of desire, mind you; funds are more commonly the issue, although it’s also hard for me to leave the toddler behind. I enjoy spending time with him and he would not at all like this place! Nor would the other guests, most likely… Continue reading “Bloggers Invade Veni Vidi Vici”

Sausalito West Coast Grill, Atlanta GA

I felt a little rotten about David. The last time we went out to eat with him, he wasn’t all that enthusiastic about going to Johnny’s Bar-B-Que and Steaks, and while I enjoyed my meal and was curious and excited about this very localized style of barbecue, I couldn’t help but notice that he only said that his steak was pretty good.

Now, some of you dear readers have commented about what has been perceived as my tendency towards damning with faint praise. Naturally, of course, body language is invisible in blog posts, and you can’t hear my often excited voice gushing with praise. I have a tendency, it’s been noted, towards hyperbole. I try to temper that a little, but basically, when I say that something is pretty good, you can usually read that as though italicized and emphasized, with a silent “damn” in the middle. Unfortunately, when David says that something is pretty good, he might well be saying it with all the enthusiasm of Eeyore offering thanks to Pooh for reattaching his tail. His manners are impeccable, but I’ve known him for a decade. He didn’t want to eat here, and he wasn’t pleased by his supper. Clearly, I needed to make this up to him.

So when we next had a free day in town, I suggested to Marie that I make myself scarce and make that meal at Johnny’s up to David. I didn’t know where we’d go or what we’d eat, but wherever he wanted to go was absolutely fine by me. Happily, David’s taste is just about as impeccable as his manners, and I was comfortably assured that I’d enjoy wherever we went, and get a nice experience to share with you all.

We went to Sausalito West Coast Grill, which is in midtown on Peachtree near 17th Street, sort of catty-cornered from the High Museum of Art. I’m reasonably sure that once upon a time, there was an ice cream place in this space, and on the side of the building, there was a delightful neon sign for it. Next door to Sausalito, there’s a Subway. How anybody can eat at the Subway with Sausalito sitting right next to it and still look at themselves in the mirror is a mystery to me.

The menu here is pretty dense, ranging from the usual Cali-Mex burritos, tacos and nachos to dishes from Chile, which is where the owner was born. He greeted David like he was his oldest and closest pal. David works just up the road and has lunch here two or three times a month. Noticing how I was lost in the menu, the owner asked whether I like chicken. I said that I certainly do, and he sliced a little taste, about the size of your index finger, and grilled it quickly, offering it to me with a toothpick and a tortilla chip. It was really wonderful, seasoned just perfectly and cooked just right. A taco filled with this meat would indeed be something else.

However, I did not get to try that. I enjoyed something even better. David insisted, quite rightly, that I order a sandwich called the Sausalito Lomito. This is sliced, marinated pork sirloin served on a bun with lettuce, tomato, guacamole and a really good chipotle mayo. Oh, heaven, was it ever good! It comes with a heaping pile of yellow rice and black beans and all the chips-n-red sauce that you care to eat and a small salad. I had the blackberry habanero dressing, which you simply must try. Four alarm and fruity, how nice!

The prices here are admittedly on the high side for this style of food, but budgeting eaters – as I often am – can just get a taco or two for two bucks and change each. This is one of those occasions where the price tag is definitely worth it, though, because they do such a good job with their grilled meat. Heck, if I worked at the High, I’d be over here all the time. The design is interesting. It looks extremely corporate, thanks to signage and table wraps paid for by Coca-Cola. I think this must be the modern, intown equivalent of the old white grocery store signs that you sometimes still see around the south, with little red “Coke” squares on either side.

David certainly picks good places to eat. I’ll give him a holler next time I have a free afternoon and let him pick again. You should probably get to know him and let him recommend some places for you, too.

Mary Mac’s Tea Room, Atlanta GA

I had been wanting to go to Mary Mac’s for a really long time. It’s the last surviving example of a brief late ’40s trend of restaurants opened by war widows looking to both stay afloat and remain a little classy, so they called their establishments “tea rooms” in the hopes of attracting a better sort of clientele than the lowlifes who went to juke joints and meat-and-threes. This fad did not last, but this one place on Ponce, started by Mary MacKenzie, survived. It is no longer in family hands – MacKenzie sold it to Margaret Lupo in 1962, who in turn sold the business to John Ferrell in the mid-nineties – but it certainly thrives. It’s one of Atlanta’s best-known destination restaurants, a place that turns a traditional meat and three into a very classy experience, and one of the very best examples of southern cooking in north Georgia, with some really amazing food.

The Saturday after my dad passed, I took Neal up on his offer to get out and relax a little. He had the goal of trying to track down a bizarre little promotional tie-in to the TV series Fringe, a short-pressed LP hiding out in various record stores, so we went by a couple of the few places in Atlanta left that still sell the darn things with no luck, and stopped at Mary Mac’s for lunch. There is a small parking lot behind the restaurant, but it fills up almost instantly. Diners will have better luck parking along Myrtle Street and enjoying a short walk.

The staff at Mary Mac’s enjoys welcoming new guests with a small, complementary bowl of pot likker. This is the slightly salty liquid left behind after boiling greens, and it starts meals here off just right. Everything here is incredibly tasty and fresh. I had a small house salad with thousand island dressing, and it looked and tasted like those vegetables were still in the ground the night before, and Neal and I shared an appetizer of fried green tomatoes. These were truly wonderful, easily the equal of the fabulous ones prepared at Blue Willow Inn and The Fickle Pickle, and served with a very light and tasty remoulade.

My meal was very good, or, at least, the sides were. I was indecisive about what to get, briefly considered the meat loaf, and finally settled on some chicken tenders. These were perfectly decent, but honestly, I should have just ordered a veggie plate. I keep telling myself that and never listen. I had pickled beets and the mac and cheese, both of which were just amazing, and Brunswick stew, which was also very good. Neal, on the other hand, really scored with his chicken livers, which he says were every bit as good as the exceptional ones at Doug’s Place in Emerson. Like me, he ordered one side too many, but enjoyed what he could finish.

We were finishing off our meal and basking in satisfaction when a woman who looked to be a little ways older than us but still bouncing with a spring in her step came up behind Neal and put her hand on his shoulder before asking how we were doing and how our food was. This unexpected burst of familiarity probably wouldn’t pass muster up north. Neal said later that he thought it was some relation of his coming to say hey.

She explained that she liked to come around and make sure everything was okay, and that while she wasn’t the one who cooked our food – I had asked whether we had her to thank – she did sample everything in the kitchen. While I joked around about how that explained why each of my beets had a bite taken already – a joke from a color Popeye cartoon that I doubt anybody else remembers – she went right to work rubbing Neal’s shoulders with such vigor that his eyes about popped out of his head.

She left her card and went onto another table. The back of her T-shirt read “I got my belly filled and my back rubbed at Mary Mac’s.” Free pot likker and shoulder rubs. They must want repeat business or something.


Other blog posts about Mary Mac’s:

The Blissful Glutton (July 3 2007)
Atlanta Restaurant Blog (Aug. 6 2010)
Retro Roadmap (May 1 2011)