I’ve spent much of the past week working on a new project. Building travel guides piece by piece. First for Atlanta and then for the rest of the world. I expect it to be the beginning of another chapter in exploration and chronicles of my life. Learning, growing, ever evolving in my journey to conquer the known world one plate at a time. I have no delusions that my task will ever be complete. I am however comforted by an understanding that I will always be, in a sense, on a journey.
Part of this journey will involve passing the knowledge I acquire not only to the world, but to my children. To share with them the hidden spots and the magical places I’ve come across in my time on this earth. To offer my children these special moments and places is the ultimate legacy I can leave behind. And so we loaded into the car, filled her up and headed to experience the beauty of Atlanta.
Maggie and I turned onto I-20 west and drove deep into the city. I was eager to pass along some of my youth to her in places and eats I enjoyed years ago and to experience some of Atlanta’s newer spots. Our first destination would be little five points. The Bohemian Mecca of the South, if it’s unusual, off the wall or incredibly unique you can probably find it at little five points. With restaurants, dive bars and some wonderful fringe shops, Little 5’s is the spot to people watch in Atlanta.
Maggie and I found a good parking spot and headed over to Junkman’s Daughter. Opened in 1982 by Pam Majors, yes she was the daughter of a Junkman, the store was originally used to sell the bizarre and unusual items her family had collected. If it’s wonderful, unique or weird you’re looking for you can probably find it at Junkman’s. We were lucky as they had all their Halloween gear out and Maggie and I spent some time exploring the racks. Maggie bought a hat and a vintage hoodie and off we went.
After cruising little fives for awhile we headed over to the original Krispy Kreme on Ponce for some of Atlanta’s finest confections. We watched the doughnuts sizzle and flip as they made their way down the line and spent far to long deciding which of the beautiful and delicious delicates to place in our box. After a few Instagram moments and a nice conversation with the gentleman working the counter it was time for a little nuvo culture so we hopped over to Ponce City Market.
In the newly coined Poncey-Highland neighborhood of Atlanta sits the beautifully rehabilitated Ponce City Market. I must say I always get this strange feeling everytime I enter the parking lot as the first time I ever graced the markets doors was to file a police report. For you see before the market was a market it was City Hall East and one of the shadiest areas in town. The newly rebuilt Kroger next to the market we used to affectionately refer to As murder Kroger and it is still strange to see the area as such a trendy part of the ever evolving Atlanta area.
The year was 2006 and Life couldn’t have been better. I was a very integral part of the Fifth Group team, one of the premier restaurant groups in Atlanta, and Living the high life. Newly single, Fifth Group offered it’s Chefs at the time, spending budgets to be used at any of their other properties. What developed was a camaraderie among Chef’s that was unparallelled. We would often bring a handful of complimentary treats to our fellow Chef guests and what evolved was an environment where our spending allowances were stretched beyond possibility. We were celebrities in our own right and life was good.
Ecco opened in 2006 and was awarded “Best New Restaurant In America” by Esquire magazine and my monthly allowance was good there. Originally closing in the wee hours, that would quickly change, It became a mecca for all of Fifth Groups closing employees. Each of their other properties closed at 11pm and what resulted was Ecco becoming an end of night collection of shady line cooks and worn out Chefs. We would often take “Whore baths” to clean off the cling of a long nights dinner service and don crisp collared shirts and sportcoats and head to Ecco. At the time the prostitutes still roamed Cyprus and it was a strange time of transition.
On this particular night we finished up at Sala and headed over to Ecco. The Bartlett sisters were in tow, one worked the bar for me at Sala and the other at South City Kitchen. They had a birthday friend in from the twin cities of Minnesota and I used my “allowance” to secure a great evening. The Bartletts were renting a house in Grant Park an wildly enough the backyard butted up to the zoo. Their friend from Minnesota was sweet on me and all I can say is that we rolled around in the cool autumn night to the sounds of monkeys, lions and elephants and that is no lie.
The following morning I awoke to breakfast in the kitchen and quite a bit of fellowship in the mid morning. I walked into the dining room and to the foyer and noticed my peacoat laying over the chair in the corner. I thought to myself how strange this was as i last remember peeling off the coat and throwing it in the backseat of my car which was parked at the base of their staircase in the street. Their other roommate who had come in at some point in wee hours of the night mentioned that he had picked up my coat in the street. Had it gotten that crazy last night, I couldn’t be sure.
I, with peacoat in hand and still a bit hazy, strolled down the stairway and to my car. As I unlocked the door to my white ’97 corolla and plopped in the driver’s seat I noticed something odd. In the passenger seat was the entire contents of my glove box. Had the previous night gotten that out of hand, why had I rummaged through my glove box, it was all to much to process. I put the key’s in the ignition and settled into the driver’s seat when reality set in. When the haze of the previous nights fun faded and reality came into perspective the truth became clear. I had been robbed.
It took the APD several hours to arrive and in no time was my property long gone. I had to fill out the full police report at City Hall East. I must say it wasn’t the broken window or the stolen checkbook which had 300 dollars worth of fraudulent checks written against it that got me. It was the CD book that had every piece of music I had ever bought since 1991. Bootlegs, Cd’s bought in the back room of independent artists performance houses like Eddie’s attic and the Variety Playhouse. The loss was crushing. Even with the dawn of streaming music today, some of my collection is still irreplaceable.
I have digressed, Maggie and I strolled through Ponce City Market as I am reminded of the Police report I once filed here. Now the property is filled with beautiful boutique shops and trendy eateries. The roof has a skyview terrace complete with carnival games and an amazing view of Atlanta. After a memory conjuring stroll down through Ponce City Market we headed to one of my oldest and dearest spots for an immaculate lunch.
Nestled near and dear to my heart, both Bacchanalia and Star Provisions are stuff legends were made of for young Chefs as myself coming up late in the 90’s and into the early 2000’s. I have for as long as I can remember had dreams of the simple prosciutto sandwich which houses only 4 ingredients. Prosciutto di Parma, European butter, deliciously crystalised Parmesan Reggiano on a baguette equally crusty and soft. The butter stands as the sauce on this immaculate symphony of perfection. As you bite deeper into this aromatic wonder of culinary utopia your own warmth melts the butter and morphs everything into this moment of heavenly bliss.
Maggie enjoyed the roast beef with fried shallots on toasted brioche as I told her of my wonderous times as an up and coming chef in Atlanta. We wondered the wares and culinary delights of Star provisions before heading off to the fun of central Atlanta. We spent the Afternoon exploring Centennial Olympic park which I wondered on the eve of the Olympics some 23 years ago. It still clouds my mind with confusion and disbelief as I see Atlanta transformed from my first days traversing her streets and back alleys over 20 years ago.
