


I don't eat steak all that often, but I've got a thing about old-school steakhouses. It's really more about enjoying the atmosphere and the memorabilia on display. If the food is decent, then all the better. And in New York, you don't get much more old-school than Keens Steakhouse, opened in 1885 just north of Herald Square. I've wanted to eat at Keens since first seeing a photo of the dining room, with walls covered with old photos and handbills, and thousands of ancient clay pipes hanging from the ceiling. But, after checking out the very New Yorkish prices, I became concerned about the prospect of paying a small fortune for mediocre food.
We arrive customarily early and wedge ourselves into the crowded bar, which — first good sign — boasts an impressive display of dozens of bottles of obscure Scotches and other spirits. Spotting a brand of rye I'd not seen before, one WhistlePig from Vermont, I asked the bartender how much it was. He couldn't recall but offered to look it up.
"Don't go to that much trouble," I said. "I'll take it in a Manhattan — unless it's, like, $40 a shot."
Famous last words.
From Bangkok, Thailand. But can he do that with sweet tea? Mary Mac's wants to know!
(H/T boingboing.net and @drewmagary)
There's a special place in my heart for the little, old shack that serves up great food. A tiny run-down place, often on the wrong side of the tracks, more often with metal bars over the windows. There's usually a walk up counter with a view of the kitchen, a down to earth proprietor manning the stove and the cash register at the same time while chatting up every customer who walks in the door. The food is often completely straightforward and incredibly nuanced at the same time, a time-tested recipe that defies imitation. And the best shacks manage to perpetually stay great and perpetually avoid the type of success (or notion of what success is) that might send them in search of shinier digs. In Memphis, it's Payne's on Lamar. In Nashville, it's Bolton's. In Atlanta? Well, I can't say that there is one shack that stands out above the others. Carver's Country Kitchen comes close. It's definitely time-worn, decrepit in a comfortable way, family-driven, and the food satisfies deeply. Ann's Snack Bar? Nah, too much of a gimmick now. Fatt Matt's? You've got to be kidding, right? There are a few fried fish shacks that might qualify, but none really seem to capture a uniquely Atlanta vibe. And maybe that's the thing - Memphis has their BBQ, Nashville has their hot chicken, and Atlanta has a melting pot without a singular dominant flavor. Maybe our signature shack is a banh mi joint, or crawfish by way of Vietnam, or an out of the way place with corn tortillas hechas a mano. I'm still looking for my Atlanta "love" shack, but maybe the search is simply better than the final destination.
So... what's your Atlanta "love" shack?


The dog was the heralded chili-slaw dog at Macon's Nu-Way Weiners. The downtown Macon location is the place to go, in business since 1916. It's just a mile or so off the highway, and a perfect pit stop on the way from Atlanta to Savannah. The friendly folks behind the counter make you feel like family. And that chili-slaw dog? It is something magical, a classic example of the sum being greater than the parts. The dog itself is bright red industrial meat in a tube, not likely to win any beauty contests. The slaw is crisp and creamy, fairly standard stuff. The chili begins to bring a bit of magic, subtly spiced, intriguing even. And then a spoon of secret sauce adds a bit more mystery. Cumin? Cinnamon? Heck, I don't know. But it's when you put them all together that something special happens and you begin to see why this place has been around nearly 100 years.

The concluding paragraphs of her post:
I felt like I was in a 1970s made-for-tv movie or perhaps, an episode of the "Love Boat." Then they brought out the stupid meat. Yes, it was beef on skewers and yes, they set it aflame [see photo]. But she neglected to mention the hotdogs on it. Yes, there were dipping sauces but they were far from delicious. No, the dipping sauces were ketchup, tartar sauce, thousand island dressing, and honey mustard. $34 per person? You have to be kidding me. (And just where were the 1970s prices? That was one area they managed to update.)For some reason, I don't know why, maybe it was because we were in a time warp, we ate the stupid thing. We should have sent it back. However, when the waitress returned, I did not mince my words. I let her know exactly what I thought of that ridiculous meal. Did she offer a complimentary dessert? Did she comp any portion of the meal? No, she did not. When the $300+ bill arrived, my head exploded and everyone in the restaurant witnessed it.
Read the whole thing. You don't want to miss the descriptions of the appetizers.

I love lobster rolls. The simplicity of fresh lobster meat, a butter toasted bun (ideally the "top-loading" hot dog style), and... that's about it. Actually, I do prefer a touch of mayonnaise mixed in with the lobster, and am not averse to a crunchy leaf of lettuce. I was lucky enough to spend some time in Maine recently, where I went from lobster shack to lobster shack trying to devour as many lobster rolls as humanly possible. We hit ten different places in four days, and, while the differences were subtle, there were definitely some great ones and some merely very good ones. Most of them were served right beside the dock where the lobstermen were bringing in their catch, so you can't get any fresher than that. Our favorite was distinguished by it's homemade top-loading roll and the deft touch with a hint of mayonnaise mixed in with the lobster meat.
Back in Atlanta, I'm always on the lookout for a good lobster roll. I've tried Souper Jenny's (not my cup o' tea), and Legal Sea Foods (a poor replica of what they used to be up in Boston), JCT (pretty good) and Crawfish Shack (that is NOT a lobster roll). My favorite in Atlanta has actually been the special that comes along every once in a while at Yeah! Burger.
It sounds like I should check out Goin' Coastal's version, and I've read on Atlanta Cuisine that Once Upon a Cake actually has a good one up in Alpharetta. So... tell us where you've had a good lobster roll in Atlanta. Besides, of course, in your own kitchen.