Krista Reese - Atlanta Kitchens

Ive always believed that cookslike gardeners, knitters, and woodworkersare among the best, most generous, and forgiving people on the planet. It has something to do with the happiness derived from making something with your own hands and sharing it with others in the form of cupcakes, zucchini, warm sweaters, end tables, and the like. That said, even allowing for cooks naturally sunny dispositions, if youre looking through this book, its probably because you love Atlanta and youve got certain opinions about what ought to be considered its best dishes. Im hoping youll flip through, nodding your assent at most of the choices, but inevitably (and perhaps immediately), youll wonder, Why on earth is this in here? And: Where in the world is... [fill in the blank with your favorite food]. Or even: What kind of a pompous jerk could possibly proclaim herself judge of Atlantas best dishes?

I am this particular variety of pompous. For twenty years, Ive enjoyed two distinct pleasures: living in Atlanta and writing about its restaurantsfirst at Atlanta magazine, as a contributor of short Roundtable reviews, then as dining editor; later as the Atlanta Journal-Constitution s neighborhood Restaurant Scout, and now as dining editor and critic at Georgia Trend magazine. It takes a certain chutzpah to be a critic, to expose your opinions to the public and invite disagreement. But thats nothing compared to the restaurateurs whose livelihoods depend on the long hours and backbreaking labor of running a restaurant and who expose their opinions to the public in the form of a menu. Ive encountered my share of heated arguments. But my rsum makes me no more qualified to declare the best dishes in town than you arethat, of course, is subjective. It only gives me a chance to feature some of my favorites in print, with hopes that others will enjoy them as much as I do and that, in addition to finding some of their old favorites, theyll find some new ones too.

My experience has, however, lent me a front-row seat to our towns dynamic dining developments over the last two decades. Like most ink-stained wretches, when I first arrived here, I could barely afford to feed myself, so I jumped at the chance to try new restaurants on the companys dime. (Fortunately, all of my employers followed strict, old-school journalistic ethics: then as now, I was reimbursed for meals and expenses, and all visits were unannounced and undercover.) While I love the energy, enthusiasm, and style of many bloggers, I hope aspiring young food writers will find the same opportunities I did: to experience restaurants as any paying customer would, without the VIP fawning. Thats how you find the real heart of a restaurantif youre treated well when its owners think no one is looking.

Atmosphere, in fact, was one of my main criteria in choosing these restaurants. Now, in particular, were all looking for more than good food at the right price. We want a communal life raft to cling topreferably one with a party on board. New restaurants such as Dogwood, Holy Taco, Holeman & Finch, and Jay Swifts 4th & Swift join established brands like Goldbergs Deli, the Busy Bee Cafe, and Mary Macs in addressing a particular community bound by their love of specialties like pork belly, a grits bar, chopped chicken liver, ham hock, and pot likker. Their customers joy at finding their hearts delight is almost palpable in these hotspots, and its compounded by the setting and service.

Holy Taco

I also chose restaurants that reflect the citys culinary range and depth. Woman cannot live by brioche alone, and even if I could, a constant diet from our most upscale fine dining establishments would surely lead to even crustier arteries than I currently possess. More importantly, I judge restaurants based on what theyre trying to be, not what I wish they were. So I would never assess Barkers Hot Dogs by the same standards as Kevin Rathbuns exciting, sophisticated dining rooms. Rathbun may have gone up against the Iron Chefsand wonbut Im not sure he could pull off a scored and scorched red hot with the panache of a Barkers grill wrangler. And while several now-huge fast-food and chain restaurants have strong Atlanta roots or ties (Chik-fil-A, Krispy Kreme, the Waffle House), I opted to go with independents and mom-and-pop establishments. (Exceptions: Hotel restaurants that are both unique and Atlanta bests.) I also excluded the big names you now find in many big dining towns: Tom Colicchio and Jean-Georges Vongerichten are nationally and internationally famous and operate the high-profile, well-respected Craft and Spice Market restaurants, but theyre not Atlanta chefs.

Kevin Rathbun at Rathbuns.

Next, I wanted to highlight local ingredients that serve as a kind of literal oral tradition: Georgias heirloom tomatoes, Silver Queen corn, Vidalia onions, and, of course, peaches feed the whole country, but perhaps no one enjoys them more, and in as many ways, than we do. Add mountain-stream trout, Tybee Island shrimp, and quail from the red-clay plains, and youve got a picture of our states landscape and agriculture: uniquely Southern, but also incredibly diverse, with almost every kind of ecosystem from beach to mountain to desert, not to mention the plush green Piedmont that shades Atlantas leafy neighborhoods. We Georgians are luckywe have the world in a state. And increasingly, Atlanta restaurants are recognizing the value of having this varied bounty so close at hand.

Beyond that nearly indefinable feeling of belonging in a great restaurant and our states signature ingredients, I also wanted to include the dishes that leap to mind specifically when you think of Atlanta. Which are... um... well, what? Unlike other Southern cities like Savannah, Charleston, and New Orleans, Atlanta, it seems, is too young and restless to have historic, iconic disheswe really have no equivalent to their Country Captains, syllabubs, and gumbos. With the exception of one local elixirCoca-Cola, which the High Museums Table 1280 enshrines in an entirely appropriate cocktail (see page 219)few ingredients or dishes immediately conjure the busy town local rappers affectionately refer to by airport code: the ATL. Instead, most Atlantans will cite their culinary heritage as old-school, generic Southern favorites: smothered pork chops; green beans pressure-cooked to near-pudding; lacy-edged cornbread; fried okra; barbecue; iced tea with hair-perming sweetness; and perhaps most of all, fried chickenso typically Atlanta Ive included several versions. Each restaurants approach, from Sons Place to the Ritz Caf, is dramatically different yet bona-fide Southern fried.