It’s that time of year when I start getting impromptu invites from friends who’ve cleaned off their patios and decks and have people over to share good food, good conversation and verygood drinks. I hate showing up empty-handed, and it’s not always time- or cost-effective to cook something to share with a crowd. That’s when I reach for one of my favorite cocktail recipes. It’s easy to make yet still unique enough to spark some conversation around the drink itself.

What is this springtime spirit, you ask? None other than the beloved Brazilian beverage: the caipirinha.
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Yes. It’s officially spring, but the weather in Atlanta apparently only got the first part of the memo. The sun is shining and the mulberry trees are beginning to bloom, but the temperature is toying with me. One minute it’s almost 70 degrees, the next it’s dipping into the 30s.

While waiting for the rest of spring to show up for good, I decided to whip up one last hearty stew of the season - a gumbo. It’s the perfect dish for beating the brrrs and more importantly it gave me a headstart on spring cleaning my fridge.

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Some people call you Dinho, some people call you Frank Ma’s. Most Atlantans in the know call you the best Chinese food this side of the Great Wall. Every foodie in Atlanta from Buckhead to Bankhead has written about you, so why should I? What more could I possibly say? But that one Friday night we spent together just before closing has been lingering like a phantom in my mind and haunting my taste buds ever since. So consider this not a review but a futile attempt at exorcism.

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I had every intention of getting up and going to 9 a.m. yoga on Saturday. But when my yoga partner sent me a text message around 8 a.m. to confirm if we were still on, the kamikazes from the night before said otherwise.

Downward facing dog? I think I’ll just keep practicing corpse pose in my nice, comfy bed thank you very much. I raised myself from the dead just long enough to send a reply text letting my friend know I wouldn’t be making it.

Her reply: Ok then. Are we still on for breakfast?

Now, that I can do.

Earlier in the week, I’d received a rather clandestine invitation to a new breakfast spot, launched by the same people who operate two of Atlanta’s most popular, upscale urban eateries: Rare and The Harlem Bar. The invite informed me that they had recently opened a third restaurant called The Social House, and mysteriously implored me to “be selective in who you tell” since they wanted “to keep this place for those that appreciate Great food, Great ambiance, and friendly service!”.

However strange and hokey I thought the invite was, it was intriguing enough to make me drag my slightly hungover self out of bed and head to the corner of Howell Mill and Chattahoochee to get a peek and a taste of this secretive new establishment.

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Whoo-hooo!!!

According to this article in last week’s AJC, I’m one step closer to not having to get up off my couch to get my drank on!

cheers,
k

Ahhh, brunch…the breakfast of slackers.

Hands down, brunch is my absolute favorite meal (or mix thereof) – just another manifestation of my decidedly dualistic nature, I guess. But there’s also an implied indulgence in brunch that I think is what really makes me love it. When you sit down for brunch, you’re saying to the world, “Yeah, I was too lazy to get up for breakfast, so what? I can still have my (pan)cake and eat it too!”

Throughout the South and especially in Atlanta, Sunday brunch is a hallowed weekly ritual, kind of like Saturday feijoada for Brazilians. As such, there are several restaurants throughout the city that are well-known for their take on this holiest of hybrid meals – many of them don’t even bother serving dinner. Two of my favorites are The Flying Biscuit and J. Christopher’s. The Flying Biscuit’s hallmark is obviously their made-from-scratch biscuits, but to me their French toast – with raspberry sauce and honey crème anglaise – is the show-stealer. The roasted potato skillets at J. Christopher’s are a perennial favorite of mine primarily because they’re the egg-less alternative to an omelette (I don’t really like eggs, and only eat them hard-boiled or hard-poached). And both places serve turkey or chicken sausage – which for some reason is still a restaurant rarity these days, though I can’t understand why.

Since it’s my favorite meal to eat (and to cook) I have a pretty good assortment of brunches I love to prepare. So I thought I’d share one of them that features my takes on the dishes mentioned above.
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The sign outside reads, ‘Fish Fry Every Day’ - a more convincing advertisement simply isn’t needed. I pull my trusty steed over and enter The Spot - a little-known neighborhood eatery on Ralph McGill. Inside, there are maybe half a dozen tables, and several stools nestled around an L-shaped lunch-counter style bar. To the right of the bar is a handwritten menu consisting of about 6 main dishes and a handful of sides - none of which is more than $8. I’m greeted familiarly by an auntie with dreads, and an older gentleman with smiling eyes and a sporty demeanor.

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The holidays mean two things: parties and food. Unfortunately, it also means parties that you’ve got to bring food to. The thought of having to come up with something to bring to a potluck gathering can be more stressful than a Black Friday shopping trip. So I thought I’d share some recipes that are: quick, easy enough for even a novice, cheap, and not the same old boring, pre-packaged stuff everybody else is gonna show up with.

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