Category Archives: BarFly

Day 4: The Beer Must Go On.

Posted on January 13, 2011 | Leave a comment

This is getting ridiculous.

As it turns out, there is only so much work that can be done and NetFlix that can be watched. So, we put on our hats and mittens (and scarves and jackets and boots …) and ventured over to The Porter Beer Bar in Little Five Points.

While some mailmen called it a day, not these guys. Roof collapses from the weight of the snow? No worries, they just put up a tarp and set out buckets. Food delivery trucks can’t make it? Not a problem. One of the owners will just hop in her little Honda and slide on down to Restaurant Depot to pick up provisions. Still feeling cold even after you’ve bellied up to the bar? Here. Try this black-as-night brew straight from the owner’s personal collection, which he borrowed from when the delivery trucks didn’t show.

The beer must go on.

Too cliche to order the End of the World? I didn’t care. Considering everyone from our mayor to the governor to CNN is threatening Atlantans are pedestrian-bound until Saturday, Unibroue’s La Fin du Monde was perfect.

And the crowd. Oh the crowd. Lots of bearded, round men who were delightfully rowdy after spending a day drinking beer and taking shots of Pappy from mini-Mason jars, but still chivalrous enough to give up seats for the ladies.

But back to my beer. It’s a super smooth triple-style golden ale. Which until recently meant nothing to me except that it has these champagne-like bubbles and tastes like wintertime (honey and spice and everything malty nice.) It’s just so damn tasty. In fact, to date, Unibroue’s La Fin du Monde has earned more medals and awards than any other Canadian beer. (http://www.unibroue.com/).

Wrap your head around that, eh?

(Borrowed lovingly from http://atlantabeermaster.com/ who has a great blog about The Porter’s “Where The Wild Beers Are”.)

The Porter Beer Bar. 1156 Euclid Avenue, Atlanta, GA 30307 . http://www.theporterbeerbar.com/. Sunday brunch is delish … and with 30 beers on draft (incl 2 hand pumps) and 400 (ish) bottled beers, you’ll find something to wet your pallet. But try the gingerade. Unbelievably refreshing and nicely paired with their salt + vinegar popcorn (herb & garlic oil, charred onion mayo).

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Fat Girl Cravings: I like pork.

Posted on January 6, 2011 | Leave a comment

Last night I got to have my favorite, favorite, favorite fat girl meal.  The Capitalist Dog at Young Augustine’s.

Why yes that is a hot dog with pork belly, guiness mustard and a fried egg on top.

It’s so utterly ridiculous that when I order it people around me literally stare. (Really. It’s annoying. The Capitalist Dog is on the menu daily people, obviously I’m not the only one.)

Some people are anti hot dog or of the opinion that hot dogs are only tasty/appropriate at sporting events. I have never understood this frou frou mentality.  A ‘lil history:

The word frankfurter comes from (big surprise here) Frankfurt, Germany, where pork sausages served in a bun similar to hot dogs originated. Think a dog isn’t fancy? Think again. Beginning in the 13th century, the “meat in bun” combo was served at royal coronations, including the coronation of Maximilian II, Holy Roman Emperor as King. The nickname “wiener” refers to Vienna, Austria, whose German name is “Wien” and, unsurprisingly, Austrians are pretty much the only people who don’t call them “wieners”. The American hot dog is credited to a German immigrant, Charles Feltman, who began selling sausages in rolls on Coney Island in 1870.

So kudos to Young Augustine’s for this over-the-top, garish creation!

If you go, be sure to wash it down with The Bohemian, one of my favorite lady cocktails in the city that was fashioned one night when the barkeep’s girlfriend wanted something sassy and sweet.  (It’s citron (although I prefer vodka w/a squeeze of lemon), St. Germaine, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice and lavender honey.)

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Canoodling at Après Diem | Barfly

Posted on November 23, 2010 | Leave a comment

This week’s column was not supposed to be about the little restaurant tucked away in the shopping center behind Trader Joe’s. It was supposed to be about a totally hip, underground club. But walking out of a movie on Friday night (Harry Potter, go ahead, judge), and into the bar to grab a glass of wine, I was reminded why I just can’t stop loving Après Diem, even though the service is hit-or-miss and people seem to wear an inordinate amount of black.

The place bills itself as an international bistro and with its exposed brick walls, groovetastic music and endorsement of indoor smoking, Après Diem really does give off a hip, international vibe. With each table speaking a different language — Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Korean — it’s a veritable Midtown United Nations.

But really, Après Diem is all about the pookie-boos.

The candle lighting and dark-paneled walls. The red wine specials and the fruit and fromage plate. The art on the walls and down-tempo beats. The place is clearly targeted toward one goal — sealing the deal.

Couples fill every nook and cranny: Two people on the heated patio leaning in over a giant slice of coconut cake. A gay couple at the bar laughing. Another couple whispering on a couch. A guy at the bar ordering an Irish coffee and an Appletini for his date.

That said, it’s also a great place to meet people — assuming your type is a guy who rocks tight jeans, a blazer, scarf and oversized hipster glasses. (If you don’t meet the man or woman of your dreams, feel free to strike up a game of “Gay or European?” It never gets old here.)

“I love how we encourage people to come together,” says Après Diem manager and native Englander, Sam Kolty. He points to a blackboard over the pick-your-poison dessert cabinet; it reads “Compassion” in 17 different languages. (Of course, Mr. Kolty’s compassion is limited: A staunch supporter of London’s Chelsea football team, he walks away mid-sentence if anyone dares to utter a complimentary word about Sir Alex and his red devils.)

Compassion seems to be most evident at the bar, where barkeep Oscar patiently waits for a couple to stop canoodling so he can finish making his wine recommendations. Suddenly, everyone’s attention is diverted by the sound of a woman speaking at top volume.

A pretty brunette is regaling two male companions with stories and words of advice. The waitstaff is keeping a list of her nuggets of wisdom. Some of our favorites?

“You can’t be happy unless you experience true despair.”

“I mean, like, take heaven. You’d think it would get, like, full or something. I mean, World War II. All those people. They died. Think about that.”

“Energy is, like, so important. It’s so underrated.”

“He was really abusive, but he was totally rich, which would be the only reason I’d date him.”

They attribute the list to “Douchebag in the red hat.”

After looking at the men to whom she is speaking, I can’t help but wonder: Are they really that drunk? Or, are they thinking that since they have listened this long they might as well see it through until the end and potentially get something out of it?

By 1.30 a.m., the place has mostly cleared out, save a few couples who seem to have decided it was just fine to stay on the couch.

Suddenly, the front door opens and a group rushes in. The women are decked out in feathers and fringe. The men are pulling off their pinstripe jackets to reveal suspenders.

“We’re partying like it’s prohibition,” a girl in a fur stole says.

Considering Après Diem is only closed on Christmas Eve and Super Bowl Sunday, they’ve found like-minded souls.

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One flew over the Koo Koo Room | BarFly

Posted on November 12, 2010 | Leave a comment

Two saucy chicks walk up to a bar to hit on three frat boys who appear to have committed the most juvenile of fashion sins.

“We are not wearing the exact same shirt,” one of the fratty triplets insists after the pair points out the obvious. “They are the same pattern. See? But his is green, mine is white, and his has a horse on it. Not the exact same.”

Right.

Seems it’s that sort of subtle difference that makes the Koo Koo Room stand out from the other clubs on Crescent Street. Nestled underneath the tacky blue house that is home to Flip Flops, the mini room is part bar, part lounge, part club. There are no signs, just a guy in a suit, a velvet rope and a staircase. And what started out as an unfinished basement has turned into a hidden den of shenanigans.

With its exposed brick walls and vaulted ceilings, the Koo Koo Room almost has a New York or Boston vibe. Almost. But there are also exposed ceilings with nail heads poking through from Flip Flops’ floorboards above. It’s sort of reassuring; maybe this Midtown room doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Neither, it seems, do the people.

“Oh, you’re not gay, you’re European!” one girl remarks to a Munich transplant. He tells her and her friend that they are the reason he moved to Atlanta. (The same line gets recycled 10 minutes later on a different set.)

A paisley-shirted guy, probably in his mid-50s, has a sex-pot brunette dangling from his arm. It’s hard to tell. OTP couple? Mistress? His hired help? Whatever the case, she looks to be down for whatever in her black, strapless and studded freakum dress.

Back at the bar, a dude in a Yankees cap casually drinks his gin and juice while two girls near the couch do their best version of the obligatory grind-on-each-other-to-see-if-that-guy-will-hit-on-us dance. Meanwhile, out on the floor, the MILF rocking the sequined Minnie Mouse ears has guys crawling all over her.

Two model blondes wearing looks of sheer boredom whisper to each other. A guy tries to hit on one. He’s tall. He’s good-looking. He’s well-dressed. But then the target flashes her monster diamond-and-sapphire wedding ring, giving him the “beat it” look. Apparently, some people take themselves more seriously than others.

As 1.30 a.m. approaches, the room grows crowded but not sardine-can uncomfortable. One of Koo Koo’s owners, local celebreality star Ace Amerson of MTV’s “Real World” fame, walks through the crowd saying his hellos and thank-yous. He’s clearly having a blast at his own party. Just when it seems certain that no one will actually remember why he looks so familiar, some giggly girl walks up and asks to take a picture with him.

By 2 a.m., the people in the bar have paired off: The German has found his steel magnolia, paisley-shirt dude is making out with his girlfriend/lover/secretary and the girls on the couch have turned on each other (seems they weren’t looking for dudes after all). Everyone is happy. Well, except one lady who leans up to the bartender and asks: “Why don’t you guys have a stripper pole? I want to dance.”

Seriously?

Via Creative Loafing: http://clatl.com/atlanta/one-flew-over-the-koo-koo-room/Content?oid=2325019

Photo by Matthew Smith, Shadowboxer Photography, ATL

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BarFly: Hobnobbing on the Reserve at Café Circa

Posted on October 13, 2010 | Leave a comment

Forget what you may think you know about the Old Fourth Ward, because you’re wrong.

The area may still be “in transition,” but nothing about the scene on the rooftop of the Reserve at Café Circa last Saturday needed transforming.

There’s a man in a fedora taking a drag from a cigar. A woman with a platinum blonde Afro flirts with her date. A man in a bow tie and skullcap talks politics with his buddy. A group of fashionistas are giggling over champagne.

The crowd on this Indian summer evening is so stylish that it seriously looks as though Central Casting was hired to stage a hip Atlanta party in the urban district.

But looks aren’t everything; even the conversation is on point.

A group of women to my left are discussing how the Beltline will benefit Atlanta neighborhoods before launching into a discussion about music. The guy to my right is regaling his friends with stories from a bachelor party last weekend in Kiev, Ukraine (where, he explains, people go for two reasons: to take a pilgrimage to the biblical Odessa and to get bombed partying with beautiful people).

Needless to say, the down-tempo lounge on Edgewood Avenue, that was originally built as a grocery store in 1903, hits the mark in 2010.

By 11.30 p.m., it’s standing-room only and so a cocktail waitress — effortlessly stylish, even in uniform — escorts a group to a table in the corner. Within minutes there is another round of drinks and dessert. Five minutes later and a blueberry and strawberry hookah is brought to the table. The waitress asks, “Do you need a mouth condom?” (Translation: “Do you want a bright yellow plastic tip to cover the end of the hookah pipe so you can smoke out of it without having to share germs with that guy?”) Service is exemplary; operations manager Michael Faye — who spent eight years building bombs in the Navy — clearly runs a tight ship.

At the bar, Gilbert Marquez — a good-looking, tatted-up bartender originally from Orange County, Calif. — brags that he was trained in the old-school, speakeasy style. As if on cue, a pretty girl orders a French 75. Resident mixologist Ava Kopieczek has created a menu of straight-forward cocktails, and with names like “Thyme for a Change,” the message of the Café Circa team comes across loud and clear. Because, as edgy and open-minded as the O4W is, the fact remains that the area is still socially segregated. (In fact, this author’s arrival was — for the first few minutes — the obvious elephant in the room until everyone realized that white people ordering cocktails was not even remotely interesting.)

There is no dancing on the roof and, oddly enough, no DJ, even though one gentleman — who steadfastly wore his Gucci sunglasses throughout the entire evening — would no doubt be happy to get on the ones and twos.

By 1.30 a.m., the crowd is thinning out and the only love bugs left are snuggled up on couches, devouring late-night dessert (get the pound cake, it’s unbelievably tasty). The rest of the crowd heads downstairs to Café Circa proper where a band has the dance floor in full dance-party mode until closing time.

Good people and good booze and good times. Let’s hope Café Circa is right and the thymes are a changin’ in Old Fourth Ward.

Also at: http://clatl.com/atlanta/hobnobbing-on-the-reserve-at-cafandeacute-circa/Content?oid=2208375

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