Foodie Buddha F.'s Profile

The earliest of days here, but here's a super super short version of the pontification I'll get into elsewhere.

Relative to many Indian restaurants that occupy our city, Cardamom is a more upscale (dare I say fine dining) attempt.  Prices for entrées exceed $20 at times and so the bar is set high.

The food was decent, neither amazing nor full of faults.  The most notable aspect was the temperature - it was lukewarm (my friends who stepped in a few hours before me said the same thing).

While the staff was friendly, there seems a touch of elitism running through the place.  Neither bad nor good - that's just the early reality.

Full exploration of details imminent when i'm not restricted by word counts or crippled by the need to stick a star on something.  So a meaningless assignment of 3stars for now - i suspect atlanta will fawn over this place, for better or worse.

Second visit was far worse than the initial visit was good.  I posted a full update on my blog but the super super short version is as follows:

The menu changes a good bit and for a restaurant that's only operational a few hours a day, that's a lot to take on.  This is complicated by the fact that the menu is extremely diverse.

Lobster roll, curried beef, and salt & pepper shrimp are well worth the money ... everything else seems ... well ... not good.

What Sean said +

The pork belly is tasty, but super greasy ... needs more work.  More details when I have more time, but it looks like Hector has finally found his path to success.  

Disregard rating entirely, but i think between this 3 and sean's 5, i don't feel horrible about the 4 average.  Again ... more reviewing necessary

I'm tired and cranky - and a big part of that is due to the craptastic plate of fried seafood I downed about 6-hours ago at this glorified Captain D's.  Numerous sites and reviews espouse the delicious grub of Capt Shrimp.  The website gives the restaurant a polished appeal.  Combine that with the budget friendly prices ... and I'm all for it.

Driving up, I did a double take.  I don't mind dive joints, but not a single solitary mention of this all but avoidable fact was ever made.  Still, we persevered.

Could I pen a fully engaged detailing of the experience (as I've done so many times before)?.  Sure I can.  However, I'm too pissed, too tired, and too damn hungry to do so.

Needless to say - as a glorified Captain D's or Long John Silvers ... I think this place holds up okay.  I say "think" because I haven't been dumb enough to walk into one of those aforementioned places since I was in diapers.

It's fish ... it's fried ... and it's half-decent at not totally sucking.  (Oh - the staff is hella nice and tries their best).

The best thing about the meal? It was the first time I got to play with the Google Maps Favorite Place thingy (http://bit.ly/7vFlRg)

a little snap shot of my full thoughts - this is just the bit on the chile rellenos:

These annual attractions show up for a few weeks just about this time.  To my befuddlement, TdS' take on the classic is craved like no other.  Being roughly two-years since my last dance with these deep fried New Mexico green chiles, I wasn't sure if they would be as monstrous as they were way back when.  I asked the gentleman taking our orders and he said they were the size of egg rolls.  I don't know what country he's from, or in what language the term "egg roll" translates to massively phallic piece of deep fried cholesterol, but these my friends are hung like Mandingo (a NSFW reference b.t.w.).

Once we got past the schizoid like description, the gang settled in for a few bites.  True to form, the rellenos were fine ... but nowhere near destination worthy.  The white queso inside was intense, expected, and certainly reasonable.  The batter, however, lacked any real personality, and was ultimately too thick given the level of spice found in the peppers.  A bite generally translated to a gooey mash sprinkled with a good bit of crunchy chunks.

While a few of my dinner compadres suffered through the spice (served them right for the hell they gave me during dinner), I found the kick from the rellenos to be just slightly past mild.  Again, I could probably swallow spice incarnate if given the chance ... so you may want to take the cue from my crap giving dinner dates friends.  Last but not least, the salsa frita had an eerie resemblance to an Italian tomato sauce.  That said, it was appropriately dolled out and successfully played the part of supporting flavor in a major meal.

Fritti sits on one side of the coin in what seems to have been dubbed "the Atlanta Pizza Wars."  It is a sham for one reason: These restaurants are both worthy of a following; however, I cannot for the life of me identify any other duo where people are asked to like one establishment & not the other. It's not even important who started the debate, or how it got so widespread.  Fritti & Varasano's are different types of pizza.  Neither is the "correct way" & neither is "the best X, Y, or Z." They are simply different takes on a single culinary tradition. Some will undoubtedly find one better than the other, & that's just fine.  Hopefully, people can put down them "fighting words" at the mere mention of either establishment & just take them at face value. I'm still not ready to throw down a full review of Fritti. This is note on last night's meal, with some info on a few trends I've noticed since I've started paying attention.

When we arrived at 7:45, the restaurant had a nice crowd out on the patio. That's where we found our home. Inside, the place was sparsely populated with patrons. More often than not, there is a decent sized crowd during peak hours - though I have yet to find a massive wait on any occasion. Last night, we were seated immediately.

The service struck me as a bit quirky, & that's not unusual. Our waitress was very polite & as friendly as was necessary.  However, in what seems commonplace here, the conversation that transpired seemed a lot like that of a bad first date. It was that uncomfortable silence where you stare across the table waiting for a response.  Too much dead air & some blank stares on the part of the server just made us feel ... well ... a little funny. It's happened there before, but we got over it.

We started w/ an order of the Arancini. Inside, there's risotto, a touch of sausage, & a hint of marinara sauce. As always, these delivered a simple & straightforward flavor. The balls responded well to the bite, dividing easily though providing you with the expected crunch. The marinara sauce doesn't really impress me.  The sauce is a little under developed & relies too much on the sugars to deliver its flavor. Still, who doesn't like putting a fried ball in their mouth?

The pizza here is the conversation piece & worthy of an expanded commentary. This however, is just a brief drive by - so I'll withhold a drawn out explanation. The roughly thirty pizza choices are confusing.  Fritti would be better served to offer up a 6-8 suggested pies & supplement that with a "build your own option." That's as subjective as one can get, I'm sure some people love the amount of choice. However, Fritti is doing a disservice to their customer base by throwing so much at them.

In the end, we settled on the Pancetta e Cipolla (Caramelized onion, pancetta, & hot peppers) & the Ananas e Gorgonzola (gorgonzola, pineapple, 12 yr old balsamic vinegar). These Neapolitan pizzas were decent, but ultimately frustrating. The pizza wasn't sliced, leaving us to our own devices. With inferior cutting utensils, slicing the pizzas was an exercise I'd have rather skipped.  In addition, the pizzas got "sloppy" as we tried to hold the ingredients in place while cutting.

As far as flavor goes, I was ultimately underwhelmed. While Fritti easily makes my Top 3 in Atlanta (regardless of style), I just wasn't impressed with what we had last night.  Take the Gorgonzola pie: the sweetness of the pineapple, the savory of the balsamic vinegar, & the profound flavor of the cheese left my mouth arguing.  I wasn't sure which flavor to focus on as they clashed. Add in the fact that I had to reassemble the slice & I just wasn't blowing up to have more.

The pancetta was much more successful. Still, it suffered even more from the table side knife work. The spice of the hot peppers & the kick of the pancetta were nicely offset by the sweetness of the caramelized onions. Though the kick didn't make a dent with me, I suspect others will find it ample. The sauce did little to excite. The sugars were a a crutch the pie unfortunately relied on. In addition, the pizza didn't come together in a cohesive "unit." A big part of that was the cutting, but another part of that is in the overall construction.  Still, I'd call the pie "pretty good."

Last but not least, we should mention the "char." It was there & seemed to appear as intended.  Unfortunately, I find the dough to be a little run of the mill. I see no reason that the pizza dough at a place like Whole Foods couldn't be substituted, & that's an unfortunate thing - considering that Whole Paycheck is a grocery store & not a pizzeria.
There's plenty more to say. As is, Fritti is fine by me & worth a visit.  If you walk in ready to hate them - you will. If you walk in ready to love it - you will. If you want to just sit down & have a meal, you'll probably be somewhere in the middle.

One of the worst meals I've had in the past 6-months.  The re-design of the space is horrendous.  While they are still finishing the decor, the underlying blue, red, and gold are a bad foundation.  Whoever charged Betti to handle the design should be ashamed of his/herself.

Servers, while friendly, are completely green.  There is no discernible system in place and this leaves your experience to chance.

The menu is anything but inventive.  We sampled the crab cakes, the livornese, and the proscuitto di parma panini.  The crab cake was straight out of Captain D's, the livornese was bland and fishy and the sandwich was a disaster.  The focaccia could not have been any dryer, the arugula was straight from the bag, and the prosciutto was way too thick and waaaaay too dry.   The Sahara desert has more moisture than that deplorable slice of ham.  What's worse - it was $10, about the size of a fist, and came with some thick cut, but flavorless and cold fries.

If you are a glutton for punishment, read the details: http://bit.ly/KJJC0.  Honestly, don't bother ... the meal was horrible and I would be shocked if they are able to pull it together anytime soon.

Armed with all the fixins of what everyone expects out of a snazzy Irish pub, Rí Rá has subtly announced their lofty standards.  I must admit that this chain was unknown to me until word hit that they were opening here in town.  Even then, I didn't spend a lot of time reading up on the place.  It turns out that our recent dinner there was a bit more informative than I anticipated.

As we learned, the purveyors of the concept put A LOT of thought into the atmosphere.  While the back story sounds a bit like overkill to me, I will tell you that they did a solid job.  As with all the Rí Rá locations, the Atlanta edition is chock-full of Irish imports.  Rí Rá finds old pub salvage (think like 200-year-old stuff) back in Ireland.  Then, they have some local artisans shine the stuff up; after which, the goods are shipped over to the States & installed post haste.

Since you can't walk into any Irish Home Depot & order up some old pub material, the company searches the country side for usable goods.  As we might expect, this means that each location has a bit of a unique flavor.  Keep in mind, I've never walked into another one of these joints, so take that as supposition & nothing more.

Most interesting to me is the source of the tiles.  The parquet floor, roughly 10,000 pieces strong, comes from the famed Harland & Wolff Shipyard.  Don't be surprised if that rings a bell - that shipyard was the birthplace of the RMS Titanic.  Consider that another group you can blame for Kate & Leo!

Walking in to Ri Ra, there is nothing that immediately tells you that you've just entered one massive pub.  The ceilings are low, & the deep colors help shrink the space.  Turns out, if you take a gander toward the bathrooms, you'll notice how the place goes on ... & on ... & FON!  It's seriously huge.

Meanwhile, for anyone who has ever walked into Fadó in Buckhead, Ri Ra will seem like second nature. The one big difference is that Fadó is anything but intimate.  Both places rely on imported interiors & seem interchangeable in that respect.  So while I'm not going to say that walking into Ri Ra transports me to Ireland any more than walking into Royal China makes me feel like I'm in Beijing, I will say that the decor here is a success.

For our meal, we found the weather ideal for some patio time.  A small area, the flavor of the pub is lost outside.  This patio could just as well be any given restaurant on any given corner.  Oh well, that's neither here nor there.

Like their Buckhead brethren, the menu at Ri Ra teeters back & forth between traditional Irish grub & standard pub fare.  The menu is a little more succinct than it is at Fadó, not quite as Americanized, & a little more expensive.  You'll find the necessary options of Boxty (stuffed potato pancake), Shepherds' pie, & Banger's & Mash.  Meanwhile, trout, haddock, & corned beef are all there as well.

For starters, we sampled the mussels.  A rather straightforward serving (garlic & white wine), I had no real problems with the dish.  I wasn't expecting exquisite seafood, only something that tasted like it should.  In that respect, the dish was a success.

Initially driven toward the chicken penne, I gathered my senses and opted for a more traditional dish - the Shepherds' pie.  While far from earth shattering, this was vastly superior to the version served up at The Grange in Decatur.  The ground beef did it's job, as did the base (which tasted as if the primary ingredients were vegetable broth, Worcestershire sauce, and butter).  Served up in a little white bowl, the portion was ample.  While my inner foodie wants me to rely on technical terms to communicate my experience - I'm not sure the food here warrants it.  That's not a detractor, just an explanation.  For $12.00, I'd say the dish was priced appropriately.

Though I did not sample any of the food from my step-father's plate, he was lukewarm to the Guinness BBQ Chop.  As he communicated, the chop itself was cooked properly, but the sauce didn't do it for him.  When I poked for more, he thought it was a bit too salty.  With no frame of reference, take that as face value.

As far as the food here goes, I not opposed to going back.  One experience with one or two dishes does little to really give me an understanding of what's going on.  There was little about my experience that leads me to believe there is some hidden delight on the menu.  Meanwhile, it seems that what you have at the restaurant is simply just "food."  You go, you order, you eat, and you say - okay.  They might have a failure or two, but I suspect most of the dishes here will suffice.

I guess there isn't a great deal more to say.  I don't think I'll ever crave the food at Rí Rá, & the absence of TVs means that you won't find me enjoying any World Cup soccer, but I wouldn't mind going back here to knock down a few or even grab some grub.  When staring at the "Like"/"Don't Lie" button on UrbanSpoon ... I found myself unwilling to commit to either answer.

I swear I don't eat out every meal!  Really, I don't.  Okay, now that that's out of the way, let's get to the topic at hand: Crawfish Shack Seafood on BuHi.  When most ATLiens think of casual seafood eateries, Six Feet Under, Fontaine's and Steamhouse Lounge usually reign supreme.  Needless to say, none of those places blow my britches up.

Enter the Crawfish Shack.  Despite a most unusual location and one of the more a-typical owners for a restaurant of this type, this Cajun-centric Creole restaurant has already developed a strong following.  Open approximately nine months, it was high time I gave it a shot.  Yesterday, Papa Buddha decided to have a little male bonding.  The results were mixed, but ultimately positive.

Crawfish Shack isn't really a shack; in fact, it isn't even a free standing building.  Instead, CSS is located in a relatively new strip center up on Buford Highway.  Just north of Dresden, the place is easy to miss.  You'll find it just past the Mercedes-Benz shop on the East side of the road.  There is no street sign to help you on your way and a few trees block the view.

While I waited for pops, I took the time to note the dearth of street signage and the interior.  As you might infer from the name, the interior of Crawfish Shack is an attempt to replicate the everyman seafood joints that dot the Deep South.  It's a bit too faux for me.  In the space they occupy, there really isn't much they could do in that department.  Thus, you'll find the obligatory fisherman nets and the like.  As with most decorative styles, it does little to swing me either way.  It does little to help, but even less to hurt.

About this time, something in my head started to bubble.  Something was amiss.  In this neck of the woods, two types of restaurants seem to monopolize the streets: Latino restaurants and Southeast Asian restaurants.  This is most certainly not one of those establishments.  Further to the point, the owner, a rather young chap, hails from Asia.  That said, I don't know where he was born or where his parents are from and he speaks without any discernible accent.  It just goes to show that when in Rome, do what the Greeks do.

We walked in and weren't entirely clear on the procedure.  A simple counter (with refrigerated case) covers the back half of the joint.  There are maybe six tables inside and two outside.  Proper procedure seems to be that you saunter up to the counter, place an order, sit, then return to the counter to pay.  When we entered, the front of the house staff was attending to the occupied tables, so I grabbed a menu, wheeled, and sat.

Shortly thereafter, a sweetheart of a young woman approached us to provide service.  Throughout the meal, she was attentive.  Perhaps a bit overbearing.  While the slightly obsessive behavior leaned toward annoying, we didn't really mind.  She had a sweet disposition.  More importantly, she knew what she was talking about.  Though the menu is pretty straight forward, she displayed her worth most impressively.  More on that in a bit.

As for the menu: You essentially have about a dozen choices of seafood.  Most are shellfish (crab(s), oysters, mussels, &shrimp), and everything is ordered by the lb.  However, there are six "combos" of a mix and match nature.  As one would expect from a seafood shack, items can be ordered raw, steamed, or boiled.  Though it is clearly explained on the menu, our kind server took the time to explain that in great detail.

Meanwhile, the standard sides all make an appearance: fires, hush puppies, corn on the cob, red taters, and potato salad.  In addition, egg rolls make an unexpected appearance.  It's actually more of a roll...but whatevs...let's not split hairs.

While we contemplated our order, the waitress brought us a two crawdads.  Apparently, they will do this for all virgins.  She informed us that the recipe could be tweaked if not to our liking.  We finally decided that we should order a potpourri of items: order up 1 lb of boiled crawfish, a dozen fried oysters, and 1 lb of shrimp (split between fried and boiled).  I wasn't in the mood for sides, but the fact that CSS offers a spring egg roll, I had our server bring us one of those two.  While massively hungry eaters may feel a bit under feed without more substantial of an order, we were just fine with what we got.

First to the table were the namesake crawfish.  They set the bar high, very high.  Though they lacked uniform size, these were fresh and most certainly delicious.  A straight forward Creole spice kicked things off for my tongue.  It was appropriately applied and reasonably spicy.  I really hate talking about how spicy dishes are, Pops taught me to swallow fire.  Still, I think these will suite most taste buds, but if you are adverse to spice ... you may want to check yourself.

Damn space limit, rest here: http://bit.ly/Bav86

Just walked back in the door - gonna save the goods for a longer post but to get to the point:

Abattoir ... FUCK YEAH!!!!!

What holeman & finch is to the english pub, i feel Abattoir will be to the contemporary southern restaurant.  The decor is fresh... in fact ... it exuded a fresh barn smell (in a good way).

Chicken Livers (fried & pate form) ... awesome!
House salted cod - awesome!
Kobe steak - awesome!
Burger - awesome!
Tripe stew - surprisingly awesome!
Slow Roasted Pork - not bad!

get the picture? hope so! more later ... disregard rating entirely ... it's a first impression