The Atlanta Food & Wine Festival is this weekend, so I thought I’d post some of my photos from the Charleston Wine & Food Festival (I already did a restaurant post on the event).

John Mariani called the Charleston festival the best in America. I think a large part of Charleston’s success is the local support and accommodation. Of course Charleston is a very desirable place to visit, a beautiful city with lots to see and do, ground breaking restaurants, and the industry people treat the event like a reunion of sorts.

But I saw no silver bullet, no force that is stopping Atlanta from becoming just as successful in our own way. A tasting tent is a tasting tent (and a shit show at that). Demos, education, and overall chef/producer involvement is critical, and they are only going to keep coming if we put some butts in seats. Unfortunately I am out of town this weekend for some family events (family first!) otherwise I would purchase the same one day pass that I bought last year.

I can’t wait to hear that this year was even better than last.

Quick post – My brother Thomas and I cooked up an Italian feast yesterday, probably the most excellent use of a Sunday possible. Sunday sauce (or gravy, if you lean that way) was the star – a huge, slow simmering pot of sauce, filled with meat treasures. This batch had the full monty – Italian sausage, meatballs, eye of round, pork chops, and braciole.

But wait, there’s more. We started with some baked clams which were okay but we didn’t have good product. Then we moved on to some handmade ravioli, which looked like crap but ended up presenting better than expected after cooking. Some of them stuck to the counter while I was rolling out the dough, then tore when I lifted them up. Though for whatever reason the filling didn’t really fall out when cooked. They were filled with asparagus cut thin on the extreme bias, with whipped ricotta, lemon zest, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Those were gently simmered, then finished in a butter and water emulsion with more asparagus in the pan, plated with wood sorrel and a variety of edible flowers from PRFM.

Then we made gnocchi. I really love the method I learned by watching Marco Canora on Ozersky TV. Don’t be a slave to recipes. We eyeballed the flour using his technique, and decided when we had enough flour using feel. Those were also quickly simmered, finished in a pan with cream, lemon juice, and long shavings of baby zucchini and squash. A good vegetable peeler is such an important tool to me. I highly recommend this inexpensive set.

Gnocchi may have been the best version I’ve ever made. While certainly not health food, it didn’t feel heavy, and the cream sauce came off really bright. There was only a cup of cream for six portions, far from an embarrassing per person consumption level.

We hung out for 60-75 min before proceeding to the sunday sauce, a power move. Thomas nailed it. And he sent me home with some leftovers…tonight’s dinner is solved.

If you’re hanging out with family and eating, we’ve gotta have some wine, right? (Even though I’m sick with a cold and woke up feeling worse than I did the day before). Another stellar value from Le Caveau in Chamblee. Juicy, but with amazing acid.

Actually, wait, don’t buy any of this. It’s terrible.

Friday I had to run an errand in Smyrna, a mile away from the newly opened BOCA Mexican Grill. The Facebook page claims they offer Michoacan style cuisine, though I didn’t notice too much out of the ordinary. Then again, I’m not familiar with Michoacan food.

They have full plates of food like carnitas, chicken mole, and fried shrimp, though I went with a three taco plate, with the addition of a pork tamale. The al pastor (pork) was solid, as was the grilled fish, though the beef tongue was dry and chewy. Tacos are reminiscent of Buford Highway – small, double corn tortillas, and inexpensive ($6 for the plate, including properly cooked rice and beans) though they chose to add lettuce and tomato, which I scraped away. Instead, I sampled toppings from BOCA’s stellar salsa bar, which has five or six salsas, onion, cilantro, radish, jalapeno, and probably a few more items. A cactus based pico de gallo was interesting, but the fiery tomatillo salsa was my favorite.

I’m not a tamale expert, but I thought it disappointing. The masa itself wasn’t dry, but the amount of filling was extremely modest, so the ratio of each bite was out of sorts.

I’ll be back though – it’s a fine option for tacos on that side of town, with some specials I’d like to try, like the birria de chivo (goat stew – weekends only) and the barbacoa.

Oh I also stopped in REV coffee afterwards, which is directly across the street. I learned they roast their own coffee there, and had a right good espresso. Very bright, and powerful without being syrupy.

“Where should I eat while I’m visiting Atlanta?”

It’s a question I hear all the time. It may seem cliché to those who favor the latest dining fad or the undiscovered gem, but when friends or strangers ask for an Atlanta recommendation, I point them in the direction of Holeman & Finch Public House.

It would be fair to say that the Holeman & Finch brand is one of the foremost culinary and libation brands in Atlanta, perhaps the Southeast. What began as a little known, late night industry hangout across the street from the swank Restaurant Eugene, transformed into the go-to eat and drink spot for chefs, epicures, and yuppy cocktailians alike.

The burger has received more press than pink slime. Any decent article about spirits may be lucky enough to get a quote from Greg Best or Andy Minchow. And the tiny kitchen manages to push out an impressive array of charcuterie, offal, hand cut pasta, and ever-changing specials like hot chicken and ramen ‘noodles’ made of pork skin. They even cook a few vegetables, quite nicely in fact.

In the five years since the opening of the Public House, Linton and a variety of partners have expanded with H&F Bread Company, H&F Bottleshop, and they also run the Peachtree Road Farmers Market, the seminal farmers market in the city. Simply put, I eat and drink better – smarter, more local, with broader tastes and food understanding – because of the team behind Holeman & Finch.

When the original retail front of H&F Bread Company opened just a few doors down from the mother ship, I would occasionally drop in for bagels, baguette, pizza dough, or little black sesame crisps that were silly addictive. Within a year they were closed. I thought it a failed experiment. That they suffered due to a poor location, the common fate of so many storefronts. It turned out running a demanding retail shop was a distraction from their primary goal – to transform the wholesale bread industry in Atlanta.

It wasn’t too long after the closing that I first met Rob Alexander, head baker of H&F Bread Company. Rob has an enthusiasm for wine, particularly the dangerously lovely Burgundy, and when one has the Côte de Nuits fever, the city becomes smaller and you are bound to run into other folks of like mind.

The first thing you notice when talking with Rob is that his passion is palpable. With the unmistakable quirk of a savant, he will tell you of his passion for fermentation, the time he spent in France as a baker’s apprentice, or some new product he is excited about releasing. And his product is superb. When someone asks me what to order at the Public House, but even if they don’t, I tell them, unequivocally, that they should order the bread box. It seems an odd choice, and many expect bread to be free, but the mixed assortment of delicious carbs is absolutely worth the small price of admission.

I recently got together with Rob and talked with him a bit about his career in baking, and how it came to be. Like many artisans, I knew Rob would have an interesting story, and I wondered if he always knew he would end up as a baker. He was quick to say that wasn’t necessarily the case, though later in life he realized it was possibly a childhood dream forgotten. He recalled a memory of a Christmas ornament his parents gave him as a young boy, a reindeer with a baker’s hat and a whisk, but it wasn’t until after high school, while hiking the Appalachian Trail, that he began to plot his career in the culinary field.

After his sojourn up the East Coast, Rob sought out inspiration the old fashioned way – at the bookstore. “Part of the story is that I decided to be a cook, a chef, and I was in the cooking section of the bookstore and I saw a book called Bread Alone by Dan Leader, and because of that book and the story and the romance and the pictures I was like, this is it – this is what I want to do, because at that time I knew it was something I had passion for. I didn’t choose it because it was the road less traveled, but it turned out to be significantly the case.”

Rob looked into the C.I.A. and some other schools, but bread programs he found were often in industrial baking. Rob put it bluntly – “There was no clear path to become a bread maker in America like there is in Europe. It’s not part of our culture to buy bread regularly every day, or every other day. We have an expectation that the bread should last for 5 days or a week in a plastic bag.” Though he does comment this is changing with the advent of the farmers markets, “More and more people are finding that they enjoy shopping that way.”

But Rob eventually found The Bread Bakers Guild of America, a non-profit which promotes the principles and quality of artisan baked goods. From there, Rob learned of a school in Minnesota called the National Baking Center, with some of the nation’s foremost authorities on artisan baking. But an internship with the school had a catch – “I had to be employed and have references and letters of recommendation for eighteen months before being accepted in the program. At this time I was working in a small kind of town square shop in Chattanooga, as an apprentice baker. “

He quickly found out that not everyone at his new shop had the same approach towards baking as he did. “I was placed with a bread baker, and…I protested, if you will, to management, that he wasn’t doing things I had read in Dan’s book – it wasn’t real bread, so they moved me to work with the pastry chef. My foundation is actually in pastry.”

In 1998 Rob found a way to get a work permit to France through the International Educational Exchange. The program required Rob be an active student, so he enrolled at a local community college in order to be eligible. Of his ‘quick’ trip to France, Rob said, “I got a 90 day work permit and ended up staying the whole year.”

Rob spent his time in France in the Pre-Alpes region, an area called the Drone – the lower half considered Provence, the upper half more mountainous. “It’s an Agricultural region. I worked in a little bakery in the Village of St Tomas and Royans, and it’s a valley. The village has 300 people and I joke that 150 of them lived underground because I never knew they existed. There was only a small cafe, the bakery, and the church, the rest were houses.”

When asked if he spoke French before his exchange, Rob laughed, “I brushed up on my French and actually got my teacher to write a letter along with my application for the work permit, saying that I spoke intermediate level of French, however…it was a little bit of a stretch, I’ll admit.”

In the little village near the Alps, Rob found an experience many bakers would relish. “I lived with a family, their house was adjacent to the bakery and I got up in the morning to feed the starter and go back up and have lunch and take a nap in the afternoon and start working at four in the afternoon. It was a cultural immersion, I consider myself lucky. Had I found a job in Paris then I, probably like most people, would have gravitated towards English speaking people. I was kind of a novelty for the community.”

Rob returned from France in 1999 and finally obtained the internship through the National Baking Center, eager to continue his education, “Instructors there were very good, and I was a gopher.”

After returning from Europe, Rob was looking for his next destination, and heard of a Frenchman opening a bakery in Raleigh. “I agreed to work for probably the cheapest that I’ve ever done. I told them I’d only stay for a year. I made it real clear. I wanted to work at different bakeries and experience different regions, I wanted to go Montreal.”

The tenure in Raleigh ended up being eighteen months, after which Rob returned to France for another six months, honing and sharing his skills. He returned home to Chattanooga, charged with opening a bakery for a prominent local family. It was after this time that Rob landed his highest profile position to date – corporate baker for all of Thomas Keller’s operations, encompassing Per Se, Bouchon, and The French Laundry.

For contractual reasons of non-disclosure, Rob can’t talk about the experience with Keller’s empire, though the brief time of the job certainly had an effect. “It was very tough. I was so excited to be part of his organization and out in Napa Valley, and I had moved my family out there. The next morning I went out and knocked on some doors and found a family that are very well liked and respected in St. Helena…this family saw the potential in me to help their company.”

After three years with Model Bakery in Napa, Rob and his family returned home to Chattanooga. While working locally, Rob found the ad for Holeman & Finch on Craigslist. “I’ve found almost all my jobs, like with Thomas Keller, on Craigslist.”

Rob won the position with H&F after meeting with Linton (“We talked for hours, I can get going”), though his family remained in Tennessee. Even now Rob continues to travel back and forth multiple times a week from Chattanooga, spending many nights in an apartment near Restaurant Eugene.

Now with a few years of experience, and outstanding growth, H&F Bread Company could perhaps be called Atlanta’s first superstar wholesale provider to local restaurants. The oft-seen window sticker, with its recognizable bird and soft shade of green is a badge of honor, their name has become a footnote below dish descriptions, a clear and recognizable quality which restaurants desire. Demand has quickly outpaced supply.

At the time of our first meeting, H&F Bread Co. was preparing to move to a much larger location on the Westside, as they were at maximum capacity with a lengthy waiting list of restaurants. In talking with Rob, he seemed quite up to the task of ramping up production of numerous specialized orders while maintaining quality. “It’s a challenge – the customer is always right. I try to keep it under control, but we are maxed out. When we move, I think I’ll be reinvigorated with more excitement and certainly more financial opportunity.”

H&F Bread has been operating in the new Ellsworth Drive facility for a few weeks, and I’ve since had the chance to visit. It is quite impressive. A harried team of bakers is working around the clock, and in this short time they’ve increased production by around 40% with little addition of labor. The workshop is pristine, with larger ovens, temperature and humidity controlled fermentation rooms, impossibly giant mixing bowls, and numerous other “toys” not often seen in small scale baking operations. And they still have plenty of room to add more of everything. This is clearly a large investment, a speculation that H&F Bread will greatly exceed this current success – a level of production no one else in Atlanta can match.

Though he appreciated the accolades I offered once he pointed out the bread I was eating during our lunch meeting was his, Rob was quick to point out the solid team behind their achievements, the growing, dedicated staff putting in the hours every day, Linton and Gina for setting a standard of quality in their brand, but he also emphasized the amazing performance of customer service and the sales representatives, led by Barb Pires. “For me, building a successful business transcends a good product.”

While I appreciate Rob’s humility, it’s easy to understate the product when H&F Bread Co. is better than good. Rob has been an important part of changing the way we eat, purchase, and celebrate bread in Atlanta, and for that I am glad his long journey has brought him here.

Once we acquired the hefty $12/lb lobsters from Dekalb Farmer’s Market (three of ‘em at 3-4# each), we copied the smart folks over at Ideas in Food, and replicated the breakdown from their epic “Complete Lobster” post. Here’s a summary of each dish, with photos afterward.

The lobsters died by a knife through the head, though there was some seriously bad juju in our kitchen as the first one squirmed around in major death throes for five minutes in an apparent brain miss. Tail (which will twitch for another hour, by the way) is removed, as are claws, knuckles separated, legs trimmed off with scissors. Everything is brined in cool water to let the muscle relax before cooking and for flavor.

After an hour the lobster is par-cooked for a minute, by type of piece, then chilled.

One mostly raw tail is chilled in ice water (per recommendation of John Kessler) then sliced thin, served with scallion oil and lemon juice.

Knuckles are finished in butter, then go into an asparagus and miso salad.

Heads go into the pressure cooker to make stock for bisque.

Claws are finished in butter for use in for lobster rolls – half with a tomalley mayo, the others plain with butter.

Tails are gently poached in butter, served with a red pommes puree and tomato marmalade.

Lobster butter is saved and used as a pasta base the next evening.

Great times. We are thinking of going whole or half hog next time, with a bunch of people.

hey lobster – you gonna die!

4#

heads brining

chilling

good sized tail – lobster meat was of average shell fill (shell weight vs meat weight), according to Matt, who had mad shellfish peeling skills

stock

lobster crudo, scallion oil, radish, tarragon

asparagus salad

rolls

everything else – not photographed

Yesterday was my birthday, and when I wasn’t getting teary eyed over the scores of people who congratulated my 31st year on my Facebook timeline, I was watching the Braves game. To watch a game on my birthday has become somewhat of a tradition. The season has always just begun, the weather isn’t too hot, and I get to sit around and drink beer and eat junk food and high five strangers when grown men hit a ball over the fence, which happened many, many times yesterday, as we scored 14 runs in a shellacking of the Mets.

Unfortunately it was a bit rainy, but on the bright side, it made the usually sparse day game crowd even smaller, so we had our run of the place. We sat under the awning when it rained, and when it cleared up we sat four rows back on the first base line, close enough to see Chipper’s luxe facial hair.

Also near our section was Kevin Rathbun’s new steak sandwich stand. Here he is working the line. He said, “Hey Jimmy, snap a camera shot of me slicing steak and post it on your blog!”

Just kidding. I’m sure the impromptu photo shoot is annoying, but one will put up with a lot when there is a never ending line of people eager to pay $15 for your steak sandwich.

The sandwich certainly excels in comparison to most ball game grub. The fair portion of lovely medium-rare beef is nice and tender (not too chewy), served warm, on a pretty decent roll. It’s not amaze-nuts but it’s solid, and I’d get it again if I was in a nearby section. It’s not cheap, but if you’re inside the stadium you’ve already committed to making illogical spending decisions.

After the game we had a beer and wings at Cypress St. They were both excellent. Then we walked over to The Larry to see how that looked. They have a few classic drinks, including this Corpse Reviver #2, but some signature drinks should be coming soon.

I don’t know head bartender (mixologist, if you like) Eric Simpkins, but I know he has a reputation for making some darn fine cocktails. I couldn’t help but notice the watchful eye he kept over the other bartenders as they made drinks. As one guy put the finishing touches on a Pisco Sour I heard Eric quietly ask him, “Did you taste it? Always taste it.”

I love seeing people care so much about their craft.

We tried a few bar snacks, which were led by a complimentary amuse – a corn chowder with ginger, though Katie’s had the special addition of part of a rubber band. It was probably a half ounce of soup – one must be fairly zoned out to somehow miss a rubber band floating in the serving dish. This stuff happens, and it did, ahem, amuse us.

The thin fried pig ears are a fine salty snack, with a nice lingering hit of five spice. Inexpensive too, just a few bucks.

But the potted shrimp were the heat. Lots of tasty shrimp in a spicy, rich broth, which probably had loads of oil, but I couldn’t stop myself from sopping it all up with the nice bread. Definitely order this one.

I’ll certainly be back, especially once the cocktail program is flushed out.

Every year I visit a number of South Carolina cities in a dizzying week of work related ‘fun’. I make the most of the tedious travel and computer repair and asset depreciation reconciliation by visiting SC during its most beautiful season of the year. Naturally, I create a game with myself where I see how much good food I can digest within each city and in between. Similar to last year, I put up a solid showing.

Myrtle Beach is always the toughest. We’re talking about a city where Planet Hollywood is not only viable, but crowded. It’s an insane NASCAR-jort-heehaw microcosm that will one day be studied by anthropologists and TV re-run fanatics. For dinner I visited Mr Fish, and as on my last visit, I sat at the tiny sushi bar, secluded from the hush puppy face smashers. The sushi isn’t bad, insofar as the fish is of good quality, but they could use a lesson on nigiri rice composition. I also sampled a serviceable ceviche over rice (ceviche-don?) with shrimp, mahi, and scallop which had not quite “cooked” in the acid.

But my best find was near my office, between Conway and the beach – Habibi’s Cafe & Market. A solid Lebanese market with a restaurant inside, they offered a commendable and relatively well done smattering of lamb, chicken and beef kabob, tabouli, falafel, and baba ghanoush – a welcome change from the normal Myrtle Beach food scene.

The drive down the coast continues. Upon doing research I found that Louis Osteen is back in Pawley’s Island, having partnered up with an existing restaurant (Sanford’s) and some other investors from Greenville. Louis was one of the first chefs to really popularize low country cuisine on the national food scene, winning the James Beard award in 2004. Shrimp and grits on white table cloth? One could argue that movement belongs to Chef Osteen and the time he spent cooking at the Charleston Place Hotel in the late 80′s and early 90′s.

After the JBF award and his cookbook, Chef tried to capitalize on his success with a couple restaurants in Vegas, but when they fell during this most recent recession, his Pawley’s restaurant (Louis’ Fish Camp) closed as well and he ended up in Nashville for a few years. The partnership with Sanford took place in February so Chef has only been back in the Carolinas a few months.

While there’s no menu on their new website yet, I’ll tell you I was quite impressed at the breadth and level of intrigue. A “proper” shrimp roll, preserved duck, sliders, raw bar, BBQ, an insane looking burger, and plenty more – it’s an ambitious menu and tough to decide what to choose. If my soft shell crab is any indication, the food is darn good. The subtly Asian glazed crab (not sticky or syrupy!) was fried and flavored with the finesse you’d expect of an experienced chef.

Chef Osteen came out to the bar mid-way through my meal and sampled me on his bar snack – boiled peanuts – because he wasn’t happy with his current preparation, finding them too mushy. Details.

My next “meal” was upon my southwardly approach of Mt. Pleasant, at the relatively new Next Door. I really wanted to try some of their homemade pasta, but needed to save room for my foray into Chucktown, so I sampled a cocktail (the program shows promise) and sweetbreads with a fried, soft egg. It’s a solid dish, a juicy and flavorful preparation of thymus I’d recommend to even the squeamish. This is a place I’d like to revisit.

I don’t have any pictures from dinner, but I spent my evening at FIG, which I’ve affirmed is hands-down my favorite restaurant in Charleston. Ambience, cocktail program, innovation, local support, and overall deliciousness - they are the total package. My beef tartare and coddled egg were righteous. The negroni menu is dangerously drinkable. Oh and the staff, from the maitre’d to the bartenders (thanks Andrew) is impeccable and approachable.

Lunch the next day was near our office in North Chuck. Silva’s Spoon “Soul Food”.

Have you ever had a fried hard shell crab? I didn’t know that existed. You don’t eat the shell, but they are tasty to gnaw on and the batter does just fine in the buttery hot dipping sauce. This is a revelatory dish. So good, and unique. $3.50 for one, $6.50 for two.

I also sampled the jerk chicken and oxtail, both really nice. The buttery, filling rice is worth every empty calorie.

Dinner #1 the next evening was at The Glass Onion in West Ashley. I sampled the gigantic pork shank with grits and tomato jam. It is a treat for the eyes, and while the texture and tenderness were spot on, I found it to be drastically under-seasoned. I wonder if it was brined? The tomato sauce also lacked the acidic zip I desired to contrast this beautiful hunk of pork.

Dinner #2 was Trattoria Lucca, a quiet little place on a quiet little street in downtown Charleston. I sampled a tuna crudo with orange, capers, and pickled garlic, which was a right tasty and unexpected marriage of flavor, and a huge portion, though the novelty of the unreasonably large amount pickled garlic wore off as indigestion kicked in.

Then I picked three antipasti ($9 for one, $12 for three – a heck of a deal), including the famous cauliflower sformantino, a cake-like puree of cauliflower wrapped around a runny egg, topped with crispy pancetta – sublime.

I managed a few bites of beets (there’s that pickled garlic again) and mushrooms, but I was wiped out at this point. Hell, I’m wiped out just typing all this up.

I do recommend Trattoria Lucca, and as at Next Door, I wish I had room for pastas – the couple next to me had a couple of killer looking contenders.

Thinking about it in summary, I don’t think there’s a single one of these restaurants I wouldn’t visit again. Promise abounds. I’ll see what I can do next year.

It packs up nicely. I sort of feel like Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction as I draw back the plunger…except coffee may be more addictive than heroin.

Oh me? I’m just eating my famous Augusta National pimento cheese sandwich ($1.50) at an Augusta National branded table, sipping on a Masters branded water ($1), chasing it with a Masters Stella Artois ($3.50).

(not pictured – Masters moon pie – $1)

Just a quick note – this past Saturday I attended a coffee cupping at Octane Westside. Being that I’m a budding coffee enthusiast, I’ve always wanted to attend one of the Counter Culture cupping sessions, which they hold every Friday morning, but it sort of conflicts with my work.

Good news for us weekday jobbers – Stevie at Octane has started to offer cupping and general coffee brewing info sessions every other Saturday or so, around 10:30AM. They post the event on their Facebook page so look for information there. It was just he and I this week, so I sort of got a private coffee tasting session, which was very interesting and informative. If you want to learn more about coffee, and really dig into aroma and flavors, the cupping methodology and side by side comparison really helps with the evaluation.

In case you’re wondering, the sessions are free.