So here’s the deal. You’ve always been able to reach this site via http://eatbufordhighway.com. And that will remain true. It’s just that http://eatbufordhighway.com will now be the only way to reach this site.

You used to be re-directed to http://eatbufordhighway.wordpress.com (where you are now). But all of the gooey insides and all of the fun new stuff will be over there => http://eatbufordhighway.com

So update your feed readers and bookmarks and all of your other Internet gee-gaws. We’re still here, we’re just over there => http://eatbufordhighway.com

When I first moved to Atlanta (by way of Boston) in 1989, I remember trying the barbecue at Old Hickory House at their now defunct location on Piedmont Road in Midtown Atlanta. To say I was underwhelmed would be an understatement. The fact that I have not darkened their doorstep in 21 years attests to the impression they made.

Be that as it may, the lack of decent, cheap breakfast locations (notice I did not say barbecue locations) in the Dunwoody area drove me to give Old Hickory House another try. So on a rainy Sunday AM, HX and I ventured out to fend for a table at the Dunwoody location (down to two, the other is located in Tucker).

Despite the high blue-hair quotient, the service was friendly enough and relatively efficient (I say despite, because this is usually a key driver for long-winded, pointless conversations holding up the wait staff, along with overly complicated and indecisive orders. I’m not hatin’ on old folks – stereotypes exist for a reason).

Soon after ordering, substantial portions of country-fried steak and eggs, sugar-cured ham and biscuits made their way to our table. For the most part, the food was good and a pretty good deal (2 people, big breakfasts – about $10). The biscuits (huge) were disappointing – the interior was light and tasty, but the crust was thick and chewy – kind of a biscuit jerky.

Old Hickory House
5490 Chamblee Dunwoody Road
Dunwoody, GA 30338-4129

You’ve got to love a good pun – especially one that works all the angles: “Pan American Bakery”. Get it? It’s a Colombian bakery (South American), but it’s in the U.S. (North American) – “Pan American” – get it. And they bake Cuban bread – I guess that’s just “Pan”. Oh, and “pan” is Spanish for “bread” – and it’s a bakery. Get it?

OK, enough ass-hattery for today. Tasty Cuban sandwiches (lunch only, I believe), right off Buford Highway. Go.

Pan American Bakery
3671 Clairmont Road
Chamblee, GA 30341-4907


My friend A. was born in Cuba. Recently, she mentioned one of her favorite dishes – Bacalao a la Vizcaiña – which I met with a blank stare and multiple requests to repeat it (I meet lots of things that way). I swear, I think Mandarin is easier than Spanish… – embarrassing, with my Spanish roots and all.

Curious, I set about figuring out what bacalao actually was. Salt cod it turns out. Bacalao a la Vizcaiña is a dish originally from the Basque Country of Spain, but that has variations all over the world, including Portugal Mexico and Cuba. Fully braced with this information (and this information only), I had to locate a source for bacalao (good to know lots of food people on Twitter). Turns out I’m probably the only person in Atlanta that didn’t know what bacalao was – embarrassing, with my Spanish roots and all.

A trip to BHFM procurred a pound of salt fish, which led me to the next task – finding a recipe. It appears that recipes for Bacalao a la Vizcaiña are like recipes for pot roast – everyone gets their recipe from their mother, and that recipe is supposed to be better than any other – even though they are nothing alike.

Some called for bell pepper, others pimento – which only added to the confusion. In Portuguese, “pimento” is the same as bell pepper, but since no one on the Internet knows how to spell, I didn’t know if they meant “pimento” or “pimiento”, which in Spanish is a cherry pepper (spicier)… Some recipes didn’t mention peppers at all. Some called for vinegar (important!), others did not. Some boiled the cod, others fried it. Some layered it with potatoes and baked the dish, others simmered the sauce on a stove top and served it with rice. All of the recipes used capers, but in varying amounts.

Oh, while we’re on the subject of no one on the Internet knowing how to spell, most of them don’t know how to write a recipe either. “Cook the fish” is not exactly frickin’ helpful as far as instructions go. But, as usual, I digress. One thing all of the recipes have in common (and which is really just common sense) is that you have to soak the fish in water – for a long time. 24 hours at least. Remember that salting is a form of preservation. The salt draws water from the fish and inhibits the growth of bacteria. The heavy salting renders the cod pretty much into a form of fish leather. The soaking (and occasional water changes) not only gets rid of most of the salt, but reconstitutes the fish as well.

After soaking, the bacalao actually resembles fish again, albeit a very firm fish – not at all like the tender, oily cod I prefer for fish and chips. (Note: I reserved the last change of water. The small amount of salt remaining and very slight fish flavor works well for cooking the potatoes.)

Frustrated and impatient, I decided to take what I decided were the best parts of several recipes hoping it would somehow approximate my A’s memory of the dish.

What follows is a blending of Mark Bittman’s recipe (bland) with a few additions and variations.

Bacalao a la Vizcaiña

• 1 pound salt cod
• 3 cloves minced garlic
• 1 large onion, diced
• 1 14oz can diced tomatoes
• 1 fresh tomato, diced
• 1 bell pepper (I used 1/2 red and 1/2 yellow)
• ~3/4 cup water (white wine will work better – I was out)
• 2 1/2 tablespoons capers
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• Bay leaf
• Pinch of cayenne pepper
• Olive oil
• 1-1/2 lbs new potatoes, sliced

After soaking the cod, pick out any remaining bones and skin and cut into small pieces.  Heat  a heavy pan over medium-high heat and cover the bottom with olive oil. Dredge the fish in flour and fry about 5 minutes, until lightly browned. If frying in batches be careful about excess flour burning in the oil. I had to change the oil part way through… Set the fish aside and wipe out the pan.

Return the pan to medium heat and add 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add garlic and onion and cook, stirring, about 5 minutes, until garlic is soft. Add tomatoes, water (or wine), capers, bay, cayenne.

Bring the mixture to a steady simmer, add the cod and cook uncovered for about 45 minutes. Add water if the sauce gets too thick.  When the fish is tender, sprinkle with the red wine vinegar and season with salt and pepper as necessary.

While the fish is cooking, bring the reserved water to a boil (add more water if necessary) and add the potatoes. Cook 10-15 minutes, until potatoes are tender when pierced with a knife. One more note – keep an eye on the water when you’re bringing it to a boil – it may have a tendency to foam up and boil over (protein scum from the fish – I know, it sounds nice, right?). Just move the pot off the heat, and ladle out any foam – problem solved.

Serve over the potatoes.

So, was it “right”? It definitely wasn’t what A. expected from her mom, but it was pretty good. Most of the recipes suggested it was better the next day, and this definitely turned out to be true.

After a recent hike up Stone Mountain, HX and I stopped for a quick lunch at Community Q in Decatur. Somewhere (maybe on Google Maps) I seem to have read that the folks at Community Q were on a mission of some sorts (I don’t really recall – locally sourced, sustainable, something like that?), but I really haven’t hunted that info down. If that is the case, more power to them, I was there to eat and don’t really have a problem with eating just about anything…

We shared a combo plate with pulled pork and brisket. The pork – good flavor, lots of bark. Brisket – some was a bit dry, the rest had a good balance of fat & moisture. Nice, soft texture. Won’t hold it against them – the dilemma that most BBQ restaurants face – how to hold meat at temp without it becoming dry. Maybe it’s because I’m a Florida boy, maybe because my grandfather had a hog farm at one point, maybe because his joint only served pork – but no matter how much I’d like to, I just don’t get brisket. Don’t get me wrong, I love beef and this is no negative to Community Q, but brisket always disappoints me…

Macaroni & Cheese made with rigatoni – good tasty, sticky and substantial.

Baked beans – different that I’ve had before. Tons of onion (minced?) added sweetness and characteristic flavor. A little too sweet to eat much, but I’d order again.

Community Q
1361 Clairmont Road
Decatur, GA 30033

A couple of things have stopped me from visiting Crawfish Shack until now. I spotted it pretty early on, even before they opened, but by the time they did open it was off my “route” along Buford Highway. Then the levee broke (no pun intended – really, I didn’t catch that until way after I wrote it) and the hype machine started. And nothing says “stay away” to me more than overblown hype (especially if the Yelp-weenies are behind it).  So I gave it some breathing room and after some of the noise subsided it was back on my list. Then came what is probably the biggest problem I can find with this place – they close at 7PM most days. When I leave the house to hunt for dinner at 6:30, I’m just not going to pick a place that will be kicking me out 15 minutes after I arrive.

So on a recent Friday afternoon, I found myself working from home and decided it was finally time to give Crawfish shack a try. The menu reminds me of the fish camps we used to frequent when I was a kid in Florida and South Carolina. Fish, shrimp and oysters, either fried, fried or broiled. Hushpuppies or fries. Place your order and sit.

The grouper was fried perfectly, the hushpuppies were tasty, if small, and the shrimp were a bit overcooked. But I’m not complaining. A large group (10+ people, maybe more) was noising up the place and acting like boors (even asking for a discount, as it was their first visit!), but the staff continued to smile and remained attentive to every customer there. Pretty amazing, all things considered…

Have yet to try the chả giò (this place is Vietnamese, by the way). Saving that for my next visit.

Crawfish Shack
4337 Buford Highway
Atlanta, GA 30341

Com Ga Thailan

In chasing ethnic food along Buford Highway (or anywhere for that matter), one thing that I have difficulty with is that restaurant owners are often afraid to break the boundaries of what they think people expect.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my tacos carnitas, phở tái, niu ro mien and char kway teow, but damn it, I’m paying you to cook, not think! I’ll do the thinking around here – you get back in the kitchen and cook like your frickin’ mother…

Cha ram nem nuong

Fortunately, I’m starting to see a few places break away from the mold and differentiate themselves, cooking the food they like to cook. Bamboo Grill & Hot Pot is a newcomer to Buford Highway, and is broadening the offerings seen on most Vietnamese menus in the area. The big standouts on the menu are lau (Vietnamese hot pot – hence the restaurant’s name), and a few claypot dishes (Cơm Tay Cầm Do Bien, Com Ga Thailan). Lau is a big, cook at your table affair – it ‘s a lot of food. The clay pot dishes are served in a pot that is reminiscent of  Chinese clay pots, but the dishes themselves remind me more of Korean dolsot bibimbap – crispy rice and the vegetables still sizzling in the bowl when it comes to the table.

Bun Thai

A few other ingredients caught my eye on the menu as well – duck being the one I’m going back for (bun mang vit – duck bamboo vermicelli soup), snail paste – the one I’ll pass on for now.

In a slightly eerie strip mall near the CDC on Buford Highway, Bamboo Grill is located in the space formerly occupied by Pho Pasteur.

Bamboo Grill & Hot Pot
4646 Buford Hwy NE
Chamblee, GA 30341

Sliding southward out of the mountains, the big V-8 was sucking in sleet and freezing rain faster that gas. Turning off onto an unmarked side road, the sleet finally gave way to snow. The Benz had all it needed – a tank of high-test and cold, dense air. We, on the other hand, were hurting. We needed something to take the edge off – fat. Preferably something super-trans-modified and searingly hot…

So why were we now sitting in the snow, moaning over McDonalds? We were at our edge. The long day behind us had left us reeling. Because after six hours of refined food and more wine than I will typically see in 4 months (I lost count after 16), we needed something to remind us how special what we had experienced was.

Rob and Brent Beecham had graciously invited local food bloggers to a Food and Wine Conclave at their Montaluce Winery, hidden away somewhere outside of Dahlonega – hidden in the sense that I couldn’t find it. Which given that I was pretty sure I was mistakenly invited, I’m thinking the hidden part was intentional…

The stumbling for words began almost as soon as we turned onto the property – as in how the hell am I, who most definitely is not a wine guy, supposed to write about this? Well – I’ll keep it simple. The property, even covered in ice and fog – is beautiful. The winery, a massive Tuscan-style building that also holds Ristorante La Vigne, is impressive, inviting and best of all – comfortable. The people – friendly, warm (and I never use that word) and just truly nice – it’s not often that you meet people that really, sincerely seem happy with what they are doing. The food and wine speak for themselves.

The menu

Chicken Liver Mousse with house made pickles and lavosh

Smoked steelhead trout, boiled peanuts, fennel, Meyer lemon, sweet tea froth

Montaluce Risata, sangiovese rose

Coppa di testa, apple mostarda, cider braise cabbage, apple

Chicken thigh terrine, chicken oyster, cipollini onions, baby carrot, celery leaf

Butternut cup custard, maple gel, oat crumble, buttermilk espuma

Executive Chef Steven Hartman

Chicken livers

Tamis

Too many cameras

Ristorante La Vigne

Wine Bar

Charcuterie leads to celebrity

Winemaker Oliver Asberger

Winery

Montaluce Winery & Estates
501 Hightower Church Road
Dahlonega, GA 30533

So many people have asked me what the hell my header image and Twitter avatar was, I finally decided I should post a bigger version. It’s a pig. A tasty, tasty pig. A pig the size of a Volkswagen.

The last time I saw him, he was living on a goat farm in SC. More like sleeping. Which he did not stop doing for the 4 hours I was there – even after I patted his jowl (needed to be make sure it was tender – that’s a honkin’ guanciale just waiting to happen…).

Mystery solved.

Butabara kushiyaki is typically prepared two ways – grilled with salt or grilled and dipped in tare (sweetened and thickened soy sauce). In my mind you’re remiss if you’re not keeping it simple with salt and a squeeze of lemon. The flavor of the pork is what you’re going for here.

There’s really not so much of a recipe to this as there is just simple preparation. Prepping the pork is easier if you stick it into the freezer for an hour or two before cutting (if you are going to skewer with bamboo to cook on a grill, now is the time to start soaking the skewers in water so they won’t burn). First remove the skin – cut close to the skin, you want to leave as much fat as possible. If you’re finding it hard to get a good grip on the pork, use a paper towel to give you a bit more traction. The pork belly should be cut into a slab about 2″ wide and then cut into 1/4″ slices.

Normally, I’d grill this over a medium charcoal fire – but as it was 18º and windy, I opted to cook it in a cast iron pan. There’s no need to oil the pan, a this is pork belly (fatty). Sprinkle the pork with sea salt on each side and cook until it begins to brown. If you’re grilling you can turn often to keep it from burning. In a pan, I try to limit the amount of turning to give it a chance to brown (Geek moment: The browning of the meat is NOT a Maillard reaction – Maillard reactions involve the breakdown of sugars, and there’s no sugar here. The browning of meat is due to the breakdown of myoglobin. Some of the browning on the fat may be from Maillard…).

Serve with a squeeze of lemon.