Gone Eatin'

Helping his grandson catch a fish off City
Pier. Anna Maria, Florida; 2015.

I am not a fisherman. You will never see a sign on my front door telling visitors, "Gone fishing, be back at noon." It's not that I don't like to fish. I'm just not very good at sitting still and quiet for hours upon end. I'm also not good at swimming or using the outdoors as a bathroom, two things I feel are key to being a successful fisherman.

You are much more likely to see a sign on my door that says, "Gone eatin', be back after brunch."

That is precisely the sign I should have had this past Sunday when I was eating brunch, incidentally, at a seafood restaurant in Atlanta.

Goin' Coastal has two Atlanta-area locations. The one closest to me is in the Virginia Highlands, but there is also a spot in Canton, Georgia, which is north of the city. You may think I'm a little nuts for thinking it's worth eating fish at a city restaurant far from the open ocean (or a natural lake). However, I must dispel that myth with something I learned last summer while on assignment for the Farmers and Consumers Market Bulletin.

According to an interview I did with an executive for Buckhead Beef, most of the fresh seafood caught off the US coast winds up in cities like Atlanta. That may seem counter-intuitive. Here's how it works: fishermen fish and bring back their catch. Most of the seafood processors are not directly on the coast. So refrigerated trucks pick up the day's catch that's been preserved on the boat, trucks it up to Atlanta (in our case, we have both Inland Seafood and Buckhead Beef as large seafood processors) and it gets fixed up and then delivered to area restaurants within 48 hours of being off the boat. And thanks to Atlanta having a major airport, international and other domestic fisheries also are able to deliver fresh fish to us as well.

So, the "whatever's off the boat and on our menu" chalkboard changes daily at Goin' Coastal for that reason. And the specials change regularly too depending on what was caught and how much of it got delivered. For example, this most recent stop had amberjack, but I've been before when there was a full list of fresh options.

I went with the brunch omelet special this time. It featured peekytoe crab, sweet summer corn, tomatoes, leeks and ginger all cooked together, flipped over and served with a side of fantastic cheese grits. Most omelets I've indulged in are heavy on the savory (bacon, spinach, mushrooms, onions and tomatoes are a favorite combination, occasionally with an addition of olives, capers and feta cheese) and I was surprised by how light and saccharine this one was. The combination of all of the naturally sweet components was quite interesting and I enjoyed it. I did not really taste the ginger (which is fine; not a huge ginger fan) and I liked the acidity imparted by the tomatoes, which were big slices and not tiny diced pieces. Taking a forkful of omelet and dipping it in the grits made for a good bite.

It was also nice to have an unconventional sweet brunch option like this available, since most such options involve heavier maple flavors and thick, nearly cloyingly sweet baked goods drenched in sugar.

Now, since I've never heard of peekytoe crab, and since I'm nine years a journalist, it was imperative that I Google this crustacean before I wrote about it. Here's what i found out, mostly gleaned from this excellent New York Times story written nearly two decades ago (apparently, while delicious, this crab has not yet gained enough traction in the food world to garner many search results from actual news agencies):

Photo: The Cook's Thesaurus

• They're also known as "mud" or "sand crabs"
• They were once a byproduct of the lobster industry and usually got discarded
• Sometimes they're lumped in a group of crab meat called "Maine crab," but more oft than not, "Maine crab" will contain a blend of crab meat that doesn't include the sweet fibers of peekytoe

Whatever you call it, it's one of the sweetest crab meats I've tasted. It's quite delicate and almost fibrous in texture, so I'm interested to see how it would hold up in other preparations besides this one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to jaunt up to the northeast-most point in the country and do some peekytoe trapping ... because while I may not be good at fishing, I have no problem hanging out at crab traps and talking with boat captains, waiting for these tasty morsels to come by.

High on the Hog

There are two kinds of barbecue in this world: the kind that is finely shredded and every square inch of meaty surface is drenched in sauce, and the kind that is haphazardly shredded and topped with sauce so that the flavor of the smoked meat shines through. Both are, generally speaking, incredible feats of cookery.

At D.B.A. Barbecue in Atlanta's Virginia Highlands, you get the second kind. It's thick hunks of pulled pork with a sweet charred bark and a visible smoke ring (that's the slightly pink ring just under the crust). The pork is tender and full of smoky, woodsy flavor.

You can get plenty of different barbecued meats at D.B.A. -- in fact, there are some sampler platter options that were hard to pass up -- or you could go a more traditional route and order a barbecue sandwich with a side.

And for those who ain't got no time for forks, D.B.A. does you a flavor and has the option of your side being on the sandwich. Presenting The Archie Bunker:

Your entree and side, all in one. The Archie Bunker at D.B.A.

Inch-thick crusty, crisp, buttered, browned Texas toast.

A veritable mountain of that delectable smoked pulled pork drizzled with house-made barbecue sauce.

A gooey mound of hot macaroni 'n' cheese melting on top.

I don't know who came up with this menu item, but they deserve a raise. There are layers of texture in every bite: first your teeth hit that thick toast with a satisfying crunch. Then you sink into the mac layer; creamy al dente pasta melds into those chunks of pork barbecue and you are transported away to your happy place.

Barbecue has been one of my favorite foods for as long as I can remember, so I've had my fair share. By no means am I an expert, but from my experience, this sandwich is something special. Each bite is salty, smoky and sweet. And if you want to spice things up, there's a habanero sauce on the table to do just that.

According to a fellow food writer, the acronym stands for "Doing Business As" and dang, they do good business doing good barbecue. D.B.A. may end up being my first return trip for Meatetarian Eats. There are so many good things on its menu (like a brisket Philly, hell-o!) and I'm quite interested to see what on Earth a Pickled Moonshine Martini tastes like. If your tastebuds haven't been turned on yet by my descriptions of its food, then that statement should convince you to come check it out yourself ... because it takes a helluva lot for this red and black bleedin', "Glory" singin', Gator hatin', proud member of the Bulldog Nation to go in any place with as much University of Florida memorabilia as D.B.A. has.

But for as high on the hog as this place gets you, it's very worth putting up with the more than usual amount of blue and orange decor.

L'eggo My Chicken and Waffles!

I've been waiting for ages to find the perfect time to write about my favorite Virginia Highlands restaurant, The Family Dog.

We ate here the first week I moved to Atlanta and it pretty much stuck as the best place on the planet. It's within walking distance of my apartment (which makes returning from a night of boozing reminiscent of college), it's affordable, it's an incredible atmosphere and the food is damn good. Though I'm not writing about them today, I recommend whatever fish sandwich happens to be on the menu, the smoked duck quesadilla (it's enough for a meal, promise), Rosebud pimento cheese with spicy saltines and the oyster po'boy, which occasionally crops up on the summer menu. There are exactly zero disappointments that come from this place. Rosebud, FYI, is another one of the four restaurants owned by Chef Ron Eyester -- the other two are Timone's and Diner.

I give a thumbs-up to the chicken and waffle melt.

The most recent visit to Family Dog was for a specific purpose. Its new menu was released, which included some tempting new brunch and breakfast items. Namely, chicken and waffles.

Somehow, despite being born and raised in the South, chicken and waffles bypassed me as a traditional meal. Then suddenly three years ago everyone is going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs for chicken and waffles. It's like if your restaurant didn't have an ode to chicken and waffles you deserved to shut your doors and suffer in silence at lack of customers. But none of the restaurants I frequented offered chicken and waffles, and I wasn't exactly seeking it out. I've heard the best come from Ms. Gladys Knight herself, so look forward for a second C&W write-up when I make it over there!

There are two chicken and waffle options on the new Family Dog brunch menu. First is under the sandwiches category: fried chicken and waffle melt. The second is the chicken and waffle plate.

I ended up with both -- new menu = slight confusion = wrong dish brought to the table = new order put in -- and it was the closest thing to perfect food heaven I'd felt in a while.

The sandwich was the original order, so in the confusion it came out second. Thus, I shall start with a look at the plate. The fried chicken was boneless and doused in this sweet pepper sauce. It added a sour tang that made each bite of chicken + waffle + syrup just divine. The chicken was thick, moist and came out nice and hot. And I'm not sure what the waffle makings in the back are, but this was no Eggo. This was a deep caramel-colored waffle crisp on the outside, light and fluffy within and dusted with powdered sugar. I easily could have eaten the entire thing and forgotten about the sandwich ... but I wanted to give both a try. I took tiny bites like the kind a 2-year-old takes of peas they're trying to avoid eating. Except I wasn't trying to avoid eating it because it was revolting, but rather it was so delicious I wanted to savor each forkful.

When the sandwich arrived, I was already pretty full. I was not prepared for the tower of tastiness that was placed in front of me. If you've ever had one of Chick-fil-A's new (I think new?) chicken, egg and cheese sandwiches, you've had a fast-food version. It's two of those fabulous waffle triangles and heaped between is another mouthwatering chicken thigh (fried, boneless and sauceless), freshly scrambled eggs and Tillamook cheddar.

*** Pardon me while I take you on a quick field trip to Tillamook County in Oregon, the land from whence this cheddar comes. Go explore the website. It's fun. And it makes you wish you were a full magazine owner who could disappear off to Oregon at the drop of a hat and go watch cheese being made.

Now that you're fully versed in Tillamook cheddar, you can understand how the cheese plays an important part in the chicken and waffle melt at Family Dog. I mean, in order to be a "melt" a sandwich must contain cheese. Plus it's a mild cheddar, which I think was great for this sandwich. Don't go in here expecting a light chicken sandwich when you order this, either. No veggies, no aioli, no fancy: just chicken, egg, cheese, waffle. Oh, and syrup to dip in. Hot syrup.

Clearly I'm over here salivating just thinking of chicken and waffles. I have no idea how this meal escaped me for 26 years, but man am I glad I finally got some to gnaw on.

Both of these dishes are getting added to the list of "Dallas' Favorite Food at Family Dog" ... which is to say, everything on the menu.

This Beer, I'll Eat.

Food things I like: beer, bacon, burgers, beef, bread, cheese.

I mean, secretly I'm clearly a stereotypical man, apparently. So it should surprise exactly zero people that Justin and I celebrated our birthdays (mine was March 19th, his the 20th) with beer at the original Taco Mac. 

Yeah, ya heard me: Taco. Mac.

Do not be fooled, my friends. First of all, I've said it before: I don't get paid to do this. I am not a "real food blogger" by any means. I do not even like the word "blog," to be honest with you. So, I can go into a chain restaurant and tell you what I think of the food if I so dad-gum please, because not all of us are hired by Atlanta Magazine and given a $100 bill for just the appetizer section of the menu.
Disclaimer: No idea if that's how real food critics work. 

Anyway! Back to the point of the matter. The original Taco Mac is located in our neighborhood of Atlanta, the Virginia Highlands, in a section on the corner of Virginia and North Highland. It's small, it's unassuming, it probably seats a grand total of 40 people. The inside is a little dark. The bar has cool bottles on a shelf and draft beer taps in front of the stools. I'm not kidding when I say my apartment may be the same size as the original Taco Mac.

What I'm getting at is that you shouldn't judge a chain restaurant. My first Taco Mac experience was at the chain version, and I felt a little bit like I was in an Applebee's with more of a tex-mex feel. The layout was similar; the local high school football pennants were there; it was bright and sunny and felt more like a restaurant than a bar that just happens to serve good food. Chain Taco Macs, like most franchises, vary greatly. In fact, Justin flat-out refused to go to the original because of how miserable his experiences were at other locations. It was only by the prodding of our friend Peter that we finally ventured forth behind the screen doors of the patio and into the depths of this fine bar establishment.

And now we go back at least once a month.

This particular night, I'd heard on the radio something about limited time menu items featuring Sweetwater beer. I am not a fan of the Sweetwater beers I've tried. They've been a little weak, the pale ale a little too pale, and indeed ... sweet. One day I'll write about the Meateterian's drinking habits. But today, I present you with a beer that I may not drink, but I'll sure as heck eat.

Taco Mac's 420 Fish & Chips.

Sweetwater 420-battered fish and chips at Taco Mac

Now, take this with a grain of salt: I cannot speak for the fish and chips meal at all of the Taco Mac locations. But if you come to the original, I suspect you'll be pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere and the menu items.

According to the manager, Sweetwater 420 is the beer added to these traditional beer-battered fish. Ever since my first trip to Captain D's as a toddler (at the time, my favorite things to eat were the crispy bits of breading), I've had a bit of a thing for fish and chips. The fact that fish are now found in sandwiches and tacos only expands my excitement. These fish and chips were GOOD. The breading is light, a little peppery and crunchy. The fish itself was nice and flaky -- I did forget to ask whether it was fresh or frozen, but it tasted fresh -- and had a good meatiness to it. Fish and chips that are soggy or heavily breaded or don't have the right fish (meaning the fish falls apart) may have good flavor, but are not worth your time to eat a fish stick with a fork. Thankfully I was able to eat these with both my hands, and even better, they weren't really greasy.

The slaw that comes on the side of this meal isn't half-bad. Slaw is a great side for fish because it's light, has a good crunch and adds some color to a brown plate. My only qualm with this slaw was the flavor. I liked that instead of strips of cabbage and carrots, these were thinly diced (which had a good texture, like a crunchy couscous) and the veggies weren't drowning in Duke's mayonnaise. However, and this is mostly because I've gotten really into slaw other than coleslaw, it tasted kind of bland in comparison to the fish that starred on the plate. I feel like there's room for improvement.

Bottom line on this one, folks, don't judge a book by its cover, a flavorful beer batter by its sweet liquid counterpart or an original location by its chain compadres. Come to the original Taco Mac, join Brewniversity (Athens folks, it's like Pauley's, but you have an app that tracks your beers instead of a card) and eat these fish and chips before they're gone off the summer menu.

Photo cred: Jailhouse Brewing

Boozy Bonus!

Because this is a post about Taco Mac and I did mention Brewniversity (of which I am a proud student), this blog would  not be complete without a beer mention.

Our waiter recommended Jailhouse Mugshot. Jailhouse Brewing is a Georgia brewery located in Hampton, a little southish of Atlanta. I like hoppy and flavorful beers. I like supporting Georgia breweries and distilleries (as long as their products taste good). Mugshot is hoppy and flavorful and from Georgia. The website says it pairs well with pizza and sharp cheddar cheeses, but it also pairs well with beer-battered fish and chips.

Mugshot is an IPA, which can come off as either bitter all the way through or end with a bitter aftertaste, but I enjoyed that this brew presented with bitter and finished with a warm sweetness. It was also light, a good thing when you're eating anything fried.

An Eating Habit.

Some people have a coke habit.

I have an eating habit.

I mean, I have a Coke habit too, but mine comes in either an aluminum can or a glass bottle and will give me a heart attack before it gives me an overdose.

That's the premise for this here little journal o' food: not to serve as a food journal to lose weight (because I may work out, but homie don't count calories); not to provide hoity toity, pretentious reviews of restaurants (I tried that once. Atlanta Magazine didn't hire me); but rather to share my eating habit, try some new food and maybe meet some cool people and chefs along the way.

Let's start with the basics.

Me, with "one scoop" of salted caramel pretzel ice
cream in Anna Maria, Fla., during Thanksgiving.
Photo creds to my mom. <3

I am 25. I live in the Virginia Highlands area of Atlanta. It's a pretty swanky place with lots of character, what my mother calls "Craftsman-style" homes and bookoodles of restaurants and shops and somehow like 17 frozen yogurt igloos all within walking distance of my apartment. Sa-weet.
But with my jobs (I work for a tech company and have Mary Kay and knitting customers spread all over the state), I get to do a lot of traveling. Plus my family is still in Augusta, Ga., (ever heard of the Masters? Yeah, that place), so the Meatetarian goes around the country with plenty of places to check out.

I've pretty much been the Meatetarian since I was born, but I came up with the moniker in college when I started my first blog, not-so-coincidentally of the same name. My background is in ag and science reporting, so Meatetarian is a blog centered around the meat we eat, how it's raised and how it goes from animal to carcass to incredible edible. I decided to branch out a couple of years ago to Meatetarian: Foodish, which was supposed to be recipes with meat and animal-based proteins as key ingredients, but I didn't really cook that much, so we see how that ended up.

And that brings us to this latest venture. I credit all inspiration to my little broski, who bought me this book called Food: A Love Story by Jim Gaffigan. I didn't know who Jim Gaffigan was, but dang y'all, did I enjoy that book. It's a series of essays on Gaffigan (he's a comedian) and his forays into food. It's funny. It's engaging. It got me thinking.

Here's my take with Meatetarian Eats. My eating habit takes me lots of places. It's completely paid for by Mary Kay and knitting profits and the money left over from my real job paycheck after I shell out for rent, gas and those unfortunate things called income taxes.

I hope you enjoy eating with me. Who knows, maybe I'll become a famous writer not through my actual writing, but from my ridiculous musings about insatiable cravings for hamburgers.