Bar Rescue(d)

I joked earlier this week that clearly I know there are no states above the Dakotas because, you know, I did make it through kindergarten and also wound up with two college degrees a few years later. That being said, outside of the 50 United States of America, my sense of geography is very poor. It is my second-worst category on "Jeopardy." My first-worst is bodies of water.

I'm also pretty poor shakes at directions. And distances. Hand me a map and I have to orient the map to exactly the direction my feet are pointing so I know whether to go right, left or straight. Basically, I'm good when you hand me a GPS and very specific instructions on how to get to my destination. I will also probably show up late. Punctuality has never been one of my strong suits.

The Georgia Voice staff at our Best of Atlanta 2017 party

This is how, at 9 p.m. last Tuesday, I was scrambling around West Midtown in Atlanta like a chicken with its head cut off. You see, the paper I write for had a deadline, and my editor and I sweet-talked our printer into holding the entire paper from production until 9 p.m. so that I could attend a mayoral forum, write the story and have it in the next day's print edition. Things were going great until about 8:45, when I was almost finished with the story and then suddenly, the lights in the theater went out. And the key sounded in the lock. And my laptop was near death. And I hadn't uploaded photos yet.

Great! I thought. It is very dark in here. I am going to be spending the night in an empty theater. This is not creepy at all.

Thankfully, about five seconds into my panic, someone came in and looked entirely surprised that I was still sitting in a chair with my laptop, camera, recorder and phone piled in my lap like a homeless IT nerd. "Oh! I came to make sure we didn't lock anyone in!"

For the record, I was informed I could stay as late as I needed. Um, about that.

I asked the theater key holder if there was a coffee shop nearby. He responded in the affirmative and told me to take a left, and it would come into view.

In my heels and fancy dress with all my journo gear I hauled ass out of the theater, frantic to get all the things done so our printer wouldn't fine us for a late turn-in. And here's where my fabulous sense of direction came in. What had been failed to pass on was the fact that this theater is located at an intersection where five, not four, streets collide — meaning there were two potential lefts that could be taken.

Guess who picked the left where there wasn't a coffee shop.

Now even more frantic, I glanced up and happened to hear strains of music coming from up ahead. I didn't know where I was going, but I darted in and found myself in Eight Sushi Lounge. After a panicked exchange with the hostess, who I think might have thought I was about to have a heart attack because she spent the next 30 minutes offering me water and pillows, I was able to have a seat and finish my story. And then, because I'm a nice person and I hate people who show up in restaurants or bars and use the space without supporting the business, I ordered a beer and some of the coolest sushi I've ever had.

Crispy rice, a shiso leaf, spicy tuna and a fried quail egg
make for bite-size eggs Benedict

This wasn't your run-of-the-mill sushi roll place. I ordered eggs Benedict and canolis [sic]. You read that right.

The eggs Benedict were to die for. I heart egg appetizers to begin with (I'm the grandchild who will eat the entire plate of 24 deviled eggs at every family function; don't judge me) and I've never had anything close to this. Three bite-size squares of sushi rice were topped with a shiso leaf — which, according to a Google search, is a plant that tastes of basil and mint — spicy rare tuna and these perfect little fried sunny side-up quail eggs.

One bite and I had to work hard to not eat the other two in quick succession. The flavors were peppery and salty (I didn't get the hint of mint or basil from the shiso). The rice offered a slight crunch. That rare tuna just melted in my mouth and I was halfway tempted to close my eyes as it rolled over my tongue. And those eggs! Who knew that such a tiny little yolk could offer such a buttery, viscose undertone? It mellowed out the spice from the tuna and associated sauce, which I may have scooped up on my fork and eaten by itself after I finished the Benedicts.

I thought that would be all I would order. A sushi bar is not the most budget-friendly place I could have stumbled into. But then the server came by and tempted me with those cannoli.

If food could cosplay, that's what these little babies did. I was presented with two pastries. One, a crispy, light cone, was full of a rich, whipped mousse. The other, more of the traditional Italian cannoli shape, had bit-size chunks filling its insides. They were drizzled with some sort of deep reddish brown sauce that hinted of balsamic.

At first glance, they looked like those tasty little desserts proffered at eateries that are more likely to serve spaghetti than sashimi. But look closer, and you'll see that these cannoli are exactly what the menu declares: avant garde. It's not cream and chocolate sauce.

Meaty king and whipped hamachi crab
meat stuffed inside savory cannoli

It's crab. And it's good, very good. Tremendous, bigly good, some might even say.

The whipped crab was a sensory delight. I wanted it to be sweet because of the way it was prepared, but it was unmistakably savory. Yes, crab is a little sweeter than some of its fellow ocean-dwelling creatures, but it's a far cry from the traditional cannoli filling. The chunkier partner was king crab, which melted in my mouth like the tuna did.

As stressed as I was when I first crossed the doorway into Eight, I left with a full stomach and relieved brain. I'm still not entirely sure how I got there in the first place, but I am glad I did.

Boozy Bonus: Sorry Umami IPA

First foray into Japanese beer, and I am here for this. Umami, if you have somehow stowed away under a culinary rock for the last 10 years and still think your tongue only tastes sweet, sour, salty and bitter, is the term given to the savory, meaty flavor you taste when you eat things like meat or fish. Think of it as the protein taste. Proteins are made up of amino acids, like glutamic acid. Steal a proton from the chemical compound and you're left with an anion (negatively charged compound) called glutamate. The taste receptors on your tongue that respond to umami are responding to the glutamate.

Lemme tell ya, my glutamate receptors were very receptive to this savory-tinged IPA. I've had a few rauchbiers, which are beers with meaty and smoky notes, and I love them. This was a muted version. No smoke, no "meaty" flavor, but definitely savory. It was light and crisp and a welcome respite from some of the hoppier, fruit-forward brews I've been favoring lately.

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.

The Most Impressive Second Impression

Mama always told me to never judge a book by its cover. The same can be true in the restaurant business.

De Novo looks a little shy. First impression, you probably won't realize it's a restaurant. It's a lime green sign on a stark white background of a Fred's shopping center. If you don't know it is there, chances are you may not stop in. But heed my advice, people: EAT. HERE.

De Novo, located in North Augusta, South Carolina, is the type of fine-dining establishment the CSRA (for those of you who missed my post about Manuel's, this stands for Central Savannah River Area) has been missing. It's not as upscale as Augustino's (which the last time I went to, I was 12 and shared lobster ravioli with my Social dance partner) or Frog Hollow (never been there, but I hear it's classy). Forget the shopping center exterior. Once you step inside, you're in an intimate, modern minimalist setting with white walls, white tablecloths and massive black and white photographs of enticing food.

ProTip: Reservations are not required, but recommended. De Novo only seats about 40 people, which to me is part of its charm!

The third impression at De Novo: buttery
rolls served with tomato relish

If third impressions are a thing, mine is of the "free app" that some restaurants bring you. Sometimes it's chips and salsa (like that epic tomatillo!), sometimes it's a bedraggled basket of crusty bread with a ball of cold butter. Let me just tell you that this place scores major points on the third impression category: warm buttery dinner rolls with a crispy crust and fluffy bread innards, served with salted butter topped with a finely diced tomato relish. See photo to induce Pavlov's Dog Syndrome.

This is one of those places where the menu changes pretty regularly, so what I write about may not be on there when you visit. No biggie though, because my aunt and I scoured the menus for a while before finally ordering. Everything sounded unbelievable! We caved and got two appetizers since we couldn't decide.

Left, Corn Ho' Cakes; right, soft-shell crab and succotash

The Corn Ho' Cakes: Whoa. Buddy. I'm picky when it comes to cornbread -- I don't like it sweet, I don't like it dry, I don't like it bland. These dumplings were a knockout. They were hot, dense, contained corn kernels and had a delightful bit of char on top. Sadly I can't go into much further description because I ate it so fast that I didn't pay enough attention to everything on there. Suffice to say this means you should go try it immediately.

Our other appetizer was that night's special -- soft-shell crab. I've never had soft-shell crab before, and in pictures only seen it in sandwich form. De Novo served it lightly breaded and fried on top of succotash (which I didn't eat, because vegetables). Soft-shell crab is blue crab that's just molted its shell, meaning whole crab is edible. This was such an interesting texture to me: the shell was somewhere in between crunchy and chewy, but the meat was so soft and buttery that it almost oozed out. I'd never had anything that tasted like these crabs either -- almost fishy for a shellfish. Now, that may have had to do with where these blue crabs were caught, as fish and shellfish tend to be reminiscent of their environment. Not bad -- but a lot of things I wasn't used to all in my mouth at once! After eating them fried like this, I'm game for trying them in sandwich form.

Aunt Robbie with her Planter's Plate, or
"tower of vegetables"

Next up were our entrees. Aunt Robbie's was a culinary adventure all on its own. She ordered the Planter's Plate, which I refer to in the vernacular term "tower of vegetables." This was the most artistic presentation of healthy food I have ever witnessed come to a table. Grit cakes, peas, roasted things, cheese ... and the best part (in my mind; also this was the only bite I tried) was the pimento cheese sandwiched between two succulent, tangy fried green tomatoes. I told our waitress that the little 'mater sandwiches should be an appetizer on their own.

A homemade peppery spinach fettuccine

My plate, while less visually impressive, was on par being some of the best pasta outside of an Italian restaurant. The homemade spinach fettuccine had a peppery bite that was mellowed out by sweet, thick-quartered bright red tomatoes and these adorable tiny balls of mozzarella. It was a light meal, the perfect accompaniment to having eaten a roll, two corn cakes and a soft-shell crab moments before.

Eating a light entree meant that there was somehow room left for dessert. We sampled some incredible apple turnovers that were just little bites of Heaven, really. They were tiny empanadas, about two bites each, full of sweet apple and melted cheese. The turnovers were drizzled with a sweet, syrupy caramel and were served with just enough whipped cream to support each bite. Oh, what a rich end to an amazing meal!

The finale

I know, even after reading this, it's hard to believe that such a gourmet dinner can come from a Fred's shopping center. I dare you to go check it out yourself. Don't be surprised when you, too, manage to find an unforgettable four-course meal inside!