My last few days in Atlanta were a whirlwind -- I was presented with the tasks of packing, passing French class (believe me, c'est plus dificile qu'il semble), and changing the font of literally every restaurant left on my list to
Once a new group of high-pitched women made their way over to Kevin, my family and I were seated upstairs in a semi-private room at a long, medieval type table with five chairs, each about two feet apart. Our waiter informed us that we had "one of the best tables in the house." That evening, I had opted out of a graduation dinner with seventy-five other people (many of my friends' families), a slideshow, and a cash bar, so if intimacy is what I sought, then I had come to the right venue. I remember when making the reservation, the hostess asked if I was celebrating a special occasion. Sure enough, my response was not only remembered but also printed on the menu.
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| Why, thank you. I begged my parents for the tasting menu; there was even a vegetarian option for Allie! But after learning that the tasting was blind (something only I would have been okay with) and required the entire table's participation, I was stuck with the a la carte section. Aw, man. Kind of like being stuck in first class instead of flying private. What a bummer. |
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| Roasted Beets Amuse-Bouche It's no secret that the best restaurants are so highly regarded not just because of the chef's skills but also the quality and freshness of the ingredients. Woodfire Grill's menu is printed daily and its creation is most unique; the restaurant orders its ingredients frequently and the menu is fashioned based on what's available. This is compared to most other, more traditional restaurants that write the menu first. I can attest to the superiority of Woodfire Grill's strategy after having eaten the spring vegetable salad, and I almost never order salads at dinner. But look at it! It was as if someone had literally handpicked the vegetables five minutes before our meal. It consisted of local baby carrots, asparagus, crispy baby artichokes, a "six minute egg" (descriptive of how long it's hard boiled), and béarnaise sauce. The béarnaise was a nice touch -- I'm definitely not used to seeing a heavy sauce like that on a salad, but I preferred it, as I do not have an eating disorder.
I forgot to photograph my second course prior to digging in. Silly me. What you're looking at is a (partially mutilated) oversized pan roasted day boat scallop with porcini powder, fennel pollen, a lemon-butterbean puree, and caramelized golden beats. I agree with you - the puree looks like mush or some type of custard, but it really served as a nice accompaniment to the scallop (and it helped me to slowly but surely turn my tongue back to its natural hue). Scallops are usually the kind of shellfish that taste like whatever you marinate them in, but even with the absence of the puree, I don't think this scallop needed anybody's help. My family and I learned from the waiter that all of the seafood served at Woodfire Grill is caught the very same day, which brings new meaning to "expedited shipping." It doesn't get any fresher than that.
I'm not just saying this because I feel obligated after dining at such a fine restaurant, but my main course was completely unforgettable. It was not overly inventive or ornate, but it was one of the tastiest cuts of cow I've ever eaten. Many of you know that my love of food originates from red meat (see the interests section of my resume, which reads, "tennis, red meat, and shoes), and not only was this particular cut cooked to perfection (medium rare -- the only way to go), but it was a kind of hybrid between strip steak and filet, something I had never seen before. My biggest dilemma when going to steakhouses is choosing between the two cuts. I sometimes order a porterhouse, which I convince myself at the time will solve that dilemma, but really creates a new one entirely -- that is, I'm keeled over by the end of the meal (and the top button of my pants is undone). This was perfect. More flavorful than a filet but leaner than and not as tough as a sirloin. If I believed in heaven, this is what it would taste like (cue chorus: "ahhh!"). It was served with fork crushed red potatoes, wood oven roasted California asparagus, vidalia onions, and tarragon.
Before visiting Woodfire Grill, I had heard mixed reviews. The restaurant is generally well received by critics, but a good friend told me that she had tried the tasting menu and left hungry. Luckily, I did not have this same problem. The restaurant really is a special place, although understated and not over-the-top. I didn't get the impression, as I sometimes do with prix fix menus, that the chef was trying too hard to impress his customers. In this case, he didn't have to; the ingredients spoke for themselves. As I sit here writing this entry, a wave of nostalgia has passed over me. I know it hasn't been long since I've left Atlanta, but it also hasn't been long since I've started missing it. I do feel, though, as if I've seen, done, and eaten all there is to see, do, and eat. Woodfire Grill was one of the last on my ever-shrinking list of restaurants to try in Atlanta. I'm not sure when, but I know I'll be back again someday, you know, just to make sure the food is still up to par... Dine at Woodfire Grill 1782 Cheshire Bridge Road Atlanta, GA 30324 (404) 347-9055 |
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