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antico’s san gennaro

Time makes the heart grow fonder.

My initial review of Antico was an obscure mix of praise (5 Stars) with a quick backhand slap (I said I was disappointed). Since my first meal at Antico, I’ve explored New York City in search of the revelation I was seeking. What I discovered was a different kind of revelation. While native New Yorkers might shank me for what I’m about to say, they should know that I, in fact, prefer the rib. Onward.

Antico is as good as Grimaldi’s, better than Lombardi’s, and slightly inferior to Motorino’s.

I’ve been to Antico’s five times in the last two years. The pies are deliciously consistent, and the bustling dining room/kitchen is anything but quiet. The San Gennaro is Antico’s superior pie, a beautiful contrasting bite of sweet red peppers, salty salsiccia and creamy bufala. The Lasagna is another good choice that’s nothing like the TV Dinner lasagna’s you’ve eaten (we all have). And as far as classic goes, the Margherita is a solid choice, but perhaps lacking the same energy the previously mentioned pies bring.

Antico’s pizzas are not perfect. The crust is surprisingly soggy, sometimes overbearingly so, and can be more burnt than necessary. But as the Italians might say — or at least the stereotypical ones you see on TV —, you can “forget about it” because bottom line these pies are wonderful.

Antico Pizza Napoletana
(404) 724-2333
Midtown 1093 Hemphill Avenue
Atlanta, GA 30318
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My uncle has a dog named Madison who can do many things. She can bark on command, roll over, play dead and even put her toys in a basket. She also chews on furniture and rips apart pillows. She is unruly, as every house guest whom she has pounced on would attest. Bad Dog Taqueria in the Emory Village reminds me of Madison.

Co-owners Tracy Mitchell and Bardo Arroyave’s first foray into the restaurant business takes aim at Emory students with ambitiously pan-ethnic tacos and a $2.99 price tag. A liquor license is on its way, and Bad Dog accepts Eagle Dollars. The restaurant has “student-friendly” written all over it, and on paper and in theory, the concept is a knockout. On the plate, though, the food is not.

Bad Dog, where the now-closed Sprouts once was, opened at the end of May with intentions to remind students of home — wherever home might be — through food, according to Mitchell. This explains Bad Dog’s use of Korean BBQ pork belly, slow roasted brisket and samosas: like Emory, Bad Dog connects with Korea, India, the South and everywhere else between a flour tortilla. Recreating flavors from home, though, goes far beyond duplicating ingredients or copying recipes. It’s about execution and, as Bad Dog might call it, seoul, neither of which Bad Dog’s tacos possess.

Tacos such as the Evita (flank steak with fried yucca and a chimichurri sauce), Snooki (spicy tomato ground beef ragu with queso fresco) and Miss Saigon (filet mignon, jasmine rice) are far less interesting than their names. Evita’s chimichurri sauce is primarily bland olive oil. The Snooki is a pantry of ingredients away from savory, and Miss Saigon could use a hit of napalm, or anything with heat or character.

(From L-R) Snooki, Evita, Chickpeas in a Pod

Character is also what the décor is short on. The inside is as plain as it is cramped, white tables, which are often as empty as the giant, red brick wall behind the counter. It feels as if little has been done to rid the space of Sprouts and create a vibe solely for Bad Dog. There is no vibe, rather, and like Sprouts, the restaurant has a tendency to feel hollow.

The best taco is “Tastes Like Chicken,” a plantain-encrusted chicken breast with cilantro sauce and jalapenos. It’s straightforward and delicious. After that, it’s back down the hill. I assume “Uncle Morty” (slow-roasted brisket with grilled onions and a “special sauce”) is southern-inspired, but I must wonder from which part. The brisket is a confused misfire of seasonings, while the “special sauce” drowns the taco in a pool of watery misery.

Tacos and vegetarians hardly get along, but Bad Dog offers two meatless choices. Both are disasters. “Chickpeas in a Pod” sounds cute but isn’t, as the desert-dry chickpea croquettes are more like mangled bits with flavors that would confuse even the Korean owners of Falafal King across the street. Meanwhile, the Indian-inspired “Bollywood” taco is baby food. Period.

“Tastes Like Chicken”

Bad Dog Taqueria suffers from what so many lesser Asian restaurants often rely on in America: an unfiltered desire to please everyone. The restaurant that serves sushi, kung pao chicken and cheese pizza rarely pans out well because in its effort to offer everything, they are good at nothing. Like Madison, they can do many tricks, but are bottom-line bad.

Bad Dog’s tricks are, at best, childish, as so many of its tacos make more sense without the taco. A recent special of short ribs, rosemary mashed potatoes and a lavender-infused demi-glace — all in a taco, mind you — is a testament to a lack of imagination and poor culinary judgment. Just because it fits in a taco doesn’t mean it should be there. And then there was the mac and cheese taco, too. Execution aside, these are all textural nightmares.

For the Emory Village and for the Emory student body, Bad Dog Taqueria is a disappointing groan. Three months into opening, the place needs a leash to reel in its ethnic ambitions and redirect its attention away from culinary brain farts to more fundamentally delicious tacos.

As published in the Emory Wheel: http://bit.ly/oodRoP

Bad Dog Taqueria
(404) 890-5408
Druid Hills/Emory
1579 North Decatur Rd NE
Atlanta, GA
30307
www.baddogtaco.com

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apache burger with onion rings

With so many refined burger joints in Atlanta, Grindhouse Burgers is distinct. It is unique. Why? Because it is the worst.

I ate at Grindhouse Burgers only once. That was enough. I thought the glorified burger epidemic was two years ago. Apparently not because burger shops continue to open across Atlanta. Grindhouse Burgers, unfortunately, doesn’t deserve that much thought.

What makes me mope is Grindhouse had so much potential. Well, maybe not potential but they at least had alcoholic milkshakes. The Monkey Wrench (pinnacle chocolate vodka, banana schnapps, peanut butter, hershey’s syrup, malt) is really just peanut butter in a glass. The alcohol hits you at the end, but it’s still mostly peanut butter.

The burger was far worse. The Apache Style (pepperjack cheese, grilled onions, roasted New Mexico green chiles) seems to be a favorite among Atlantans, but it is remarkably short on flavor. The air has more personality than these dry, seasonless, non-grilled bun disasters. Somehow, Grindhouse has found a way to take the most awesome of party ingredients (cheese, onions & chilis) and render them into introverted, shy playground kids who do nothing but sit in a corner and wait to get punched (or in this case, eaten). And how about those onion rings? Bland so thank God for ketchup.

So please, try Wendy’s or Dairy Queen because at least those burgers have flavor.

Grindhouse Killer Burgers
(404) 254-2273
Cheshire Bridge 1842 Piedmont Avenue NE
Atlanta, GA 30324
www.grindhouseburgers.com

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quinoa & tabouleh salad

“The dress should never wear a woman. A woman should wear the dress.”

I recently heard this saying and how it applies to fashion, and then how it should apply to Acre. There’s truth here, since no restaurant in Memphis is more beautiful than Acre. Full of tall windows, arching doorways and wide hallways, Acre uses natural lighting and wood like no other restaurant in Memphis. Boring, though, is the food.

Chef Wally Joe is trying again after his loss at “Wally Joe” (now Jackson Kramer’s Interim), but second attempts are not guaranteed successes, and in Acre’s picture-perfect dining room, the food is out of place. Uncharacteristically forgettable, dishes are quiet on all fronts. The spiced pork loin is tender, but has a one-dimensional affair with bacon, two-dimensional with the “stone ground grits” executed in an unappealing, literal way. There’s a creamy risotto at lunch, but mine was in need of heavy doses of salt and then flavor. Seared scallops — these served with fettucini noodles and a foie gras sauce — looked pretty, but were flat with a sauce as hokey as it sounded. I also remember a fish somewhere in there. I think it was spicy.

risotto at lunch

Chef Joe has cooked in beautiful dining rooms for much of his life. He began in Cleveland, Mississippi at KC’s, a fine-dining, family-owned affair inside of a cathedral with vaulted ceilings and tall stain-glass windows. I was young when I went, but I still remember that grand room, the joys of hollandaise and perfect French bread.

Chef Joe left the delta in 2002 and stormed onto the Memphis dining scene with a multimillion-dollar, open kitchen full of Viking and stainless steel at “Wally Joe.” Sadly, the vibe and the food didn’t catch, and he closed four years later. Chef Joe spent his next several years recessed in the kitchen at The Brushmark, but there’s no doubt he’s been plotting a return.

dungeness crab cakes

And with this return, not everything at Acre is a miss. There are flashes of excellence: the quinoa and charred avocado salad at lunch is a remarkable creation that makes all other restaurant salads trying to be special ordinary. Charred avocado sounds silly but has an edge that works with the fried tabouleh and light vinaigrette. Acre’s Dungeness Crab Cakes are also fantastic, plump full of crab and light on fillers.

Acre serves dessert, but only the sticky toffee cake is worth the calories. My friend described it as the “essence of toffee,” and, I truly believe it’s a perfect, moist ode to treat that often empties sugar mills. This one doesn’t.

seared scallops.

The hype, the name, the expectation — the bars were set high at “Wally Joe” and have been set high again at Acre, possibly higher than one chef could ever reach in such a gorgeous dining room. The decor, among other forces, encourages us to want more out of the food and more out of the experience, and that want isn’t unfair if we care more about content than context. What matters now is what Acre cares about.

Acre
(901) 818-2273
East Memphis
690 S Perkins Rd
Memphis, TN 38117
www.acrememphis.com

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Truth: The Elegant Farmer satisfies a niche that frankly should have been filled sooner. Another pot roast-serving, catfish-frying restaurant in Memphis hardly adds character to an already Southern-conservative food scene, but at The Elegant Farmer, Chef/Owner Mac Edwards (formerly of McEwens) is making Southern staples more attractive than anyone else in the city.

Once a teahouse now converted to one chic farmhouse, the restaurant off South Highland proves that eating sustainably doesn’t have to be expensive and, most importantly, that Southern traditions mustn’t directly descend from a loved grandmother. Even Grandma’s recipes could use an update now and then.

roast pork, greens, corn casserole ($11)

Striking lunch dishes include the roast pork, which is braised with red wine, an oven roasted chicken that’s big, juicy and so-not boring, and a mac and cheese that takes its cues from mustard and hot sauce . At dinner, the salmon patties are fine, but the pork chop is outrageous. Since when has a pork chop ever been exciting? This one is brined to stay moist and served with a spring onion marmalade that runs deep through the entire chop. The center is as good as the outside. A rarity. And while no longer on the menu, the sausage/duck etouffee over polenta was a large plate of love that later made for killer leftovers.

oven roasted chicken, roasted vegetables ($12)

Chef de Cuisine Gannon Hamilton’s menu is far more extensive than what I’ve tried over my last three visits, but even if everything else  disappointed, I’ve found enough dishes to keep a steady rotation of my favorites. But while we’re on the subject, The Elegant Farmer does occasionally err: the rolls can be cold and hard, the greens closer to candy than a vegetable (too much sugar) and the brisket too dry and tough. These are mistakes, but perhaps forgivable ones considering what you’re paying (brisket, $10).

Price point (lunch entrees are less than $12, dinner generally less than $20) is the final piece to The Elegant Farmer’s appeal. Portion sizes often lend themselves to another meal of wonderful leftovers. But leftovers or not, The Elegant Farmer succeeds in reaching that elusive 4-way intersection of delicious, affordable, creative and classic. It’s about time.

The Elegant Farmer
(901) 324-2221
East Memphis
262 S Highland
Memphis, TN 38111
www.theelegantfarmerrestaur

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