Concert venue seats up to 1,100. Mainly features national acts of the indie-rock persuasion.
Former church turned rock (as well as boxing and comedy) venue has gothic ambiance to spare, and some inviting bar and lounge spaces.
At Inc. Street Food, the kitchen has been outfitted to look like an actual street cart, with waiters picking up orders from what would be the cart's window. Food is all over the place, with specialties from Mexico, Puerto Rico, Argentina, El Salvador and Peru. Despite the geographic range, Inc. suffers from a kind of sameness of flavor throughout its menu. The most interesting dish is also its strangest: calamari rellenos, which is a whole calamari stuffed with oxtail and rice steeped in squid ink. Also of note: Chilean-style barbecued octopus. The standard tacos -- steak, pork, etc. -- were generously proportioned and tasty, if not distinctive. The vibe is undeniably sexy, and the kitchen is tinkering with some cool concepts, but the flavors could be cleaned up a little bit, pulled apart and focused on their original conceptual origins.
Most of the dishes at So Ba have an almost perfumed redolence. So Ba's food is mainly good, and complaints about authenticity are surprising.
The paneled Southern seafood shack decor works (think wooden booths, long tables, a horseshoe bar). And so does the food. Shrimp, crab cakes, oysters, crab legs, clams, scallops, mussels, catfish and po'boys are all fresh and tasty. All in all, Six Feet Under fills the gap of the disappearing inexpensive seafood shack.
Salt Factory is all British pub wood accents, and there's a convivial feel that pervades the room and spills out onto the sidewalk. Charcuterie, including the ever-underappreciated liverwurst, fried oyster, and an outrageously creamy six-onion soup hit the right notes. Entrees were a little less successful, save for a whole trout with braised cabbage, mashed potatoes and bacon. The beer list is hardly earth-shaking, but there's a nice mix of standard domestics, craft beers and Belgians available. Salt is trying to do a whole lot all at once, and there's no doubt that Roswell appreciates the effort.
More than any other chef, Kevin Rathbun is responsible for defining the restaurant food of Atlanta: Practically every culinary trend and compulsion is represented here and, for the most part, Rathbun's does it bigger, better and bolder. The menu is ludicrously large, but choose wisely and you'll be rewarded: a colossal 20-ounce bone-in rib-eye, slathered in warm blue cheese vinaigrette; a tiny Jonah crab tart, all warm, gushing custardy richness and flaky crust surrounding a generous pile of hot crab meat; the best bone marrow appetizer in town; tender chicken livers a la plancha. The bar and wine list lacks strong vision to set tastes and standards, but that’s the exact opposite of the feel you get from the rest of this enterprise. This is still a restaurant that we should be proud to define ourselves by.