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Peaches, melons, blueberries, tomatoes, cukes; summer harvest is at its zenith right now. There is a greater abundance of tasty fruits and veggies right now than at any other time of year. There are many reasons why this is good for your health, your stomach, your taste buds, and your kitchen; here are just a few:
• Georgia’s soil and climate are perfect for growing a myriad of summer produce. In other parts of the country, people aren’t so lucky; they have to get peaches from other states and regions, not a farm only 20 miles away. In spite of its heat and humidity, the southern summer flaunts how easy it can be to eat locally.
• The nutrient level of produce reaches its apex a few days after picking. By having easy access to truly fresh fruits and veggies, we can get the most out of them nutritionally.
• Stockpiles of veggies and fruits = canning! Worried about eating seasonally in the dead of winter?! Have no fear, canning is here! (And it’s easier than you think!)
• Endless recipes for desserts, salads, cold soups, and of course, drinks! Mocktails and cocktails are more beautiful with fresh-from-the-garden ingredients and garnishes.
Drinks. It is so damn hot outside! Icy beverages with or without alcohol can be a refreshing respite from the relentless heat that envelopes the city this time of year. Combine drinking, ice, and something freshly dug out of the dirt? Exponential refreshment.
As a fruit and vegetable purist, I prefer my peak-of-summer produce straight-up: sliced with a knife and plopped in a bowl, unadulterated flavors in full force. I love the way the yellow grape tomatoes I pick from my backyard explode in my mouth with one tiny molar puncture, threatening to decorate whatever sundress I’m wearing if my lips aren’t clamped shut. The only thing I like to add is a judicious sprinkle of sea salt.
Cucumbers and sea salt, to me, seem quintessentially summery – that fresh, earthy, salty delight to the senses that transports me to white sugar-sand beaches. Cue libation: Sauced makes an aptly named “Day Spa” cocktail that incorporates the delights of lavender infused gin (the most refreshing liquor my palate knows), elderflower liquor, fresh dill, lime juice, and, of course, sliced cucumber.
Upon first taste of this summer-in-a-glass, the challenge lies in not taking too big of a sip despite your hedonistic impulse to gulp as you would, say, a golden lager. But as you linger over the smell and taste of the Day Spa, you notice that your mood lifts, your shoulders ease, your face relaxes, and your mouth smiles. If you didn’t know better, you could swear you were getting a full body massage.
Sauced Restaurant and Lounge is tucked away in the old 11 11 space, just a stone’s throw from the Krog tunnel, on Edgewood. It’s open from 5:30 to about 1 am most nights, and closed on Mondays. House cocktails start at $9.
Atlanta, GA 30307-2458
(404) 688-6554
Photo Credit: Tim Song
The Local has been the darling bar of Ponce for a mosaic of personalities since it was opened by Charlie Kerns in 1998. Kerns rented the building of the bar from a Chinese family that had previously ran a restaurant in the space; it had also been the home of a cheap Mediterranean food spot and before that, a breakfast spot called Chez Ponce. But Ray Lee’s Blue Lantern Lounge, run by Ray and Mildred Lee, was “the last redneck dive in Atlanta,” and stayed rockin’ from its inception in the 1940’s all the way into the 1980’s. It is no surprise, then, that such a long-lived dive bar and juke joint would be the future home of a beloved place like The Local. Since its inception, it has garnered a well-deserved reputation for its reliability and comfortable, easy-going scene. A consistent flow of enjoyable staff, cheap booze, house-smoked barbecue, and free popcorn has been enjoyed by an also consistent flow of customers who might be happily called part of the out crowd.
“The flavor of The Local has pretty much been what I established. You hire people, and let them be who they are. People get to know who they are. My entire business is to be genuine,” said Kerns. “If people are having fun and doing their job…let them be who they are. It’s much more entertaining.”
He pontificated on people gossiping about the Local losing its independent panache – the earnest attitude it exudes that has kept people coming back for over a decade.
“If you like the way The Local feels, what it stands for…those things will never change. Kenyon (Tavares) will vouch for that. I’m not an interloper. There was a business disagreement; that happens,” Kerns asserted.
The changes that have taken place in the bar, including the removal of the photo booth and the extra-large booths from the side room, and the wall separating two rooms being knocked down, have served as an impetus for recent gossip regarding the future of The Local. (See The Local Ignites Rumor Mill). Kerns asserts that this gossip is unfounded. “I try to give people a deal, and be honest.”
Kerns has his hearstrings attached to The Local – even his house is tied to the place. Kerns resides in a Virginia-Highland home with his wife of over 30 years, Grace. The house was originally owned by a woman who came into possession of it after her brother fell off a barstool, cracked his head open, and died. The brother was sitting at a barstool in Ray lee’s Blue Lantern Lodge. Alas, a fellow met his death decades ago in a building that would become owned by the man who would also come to own the dead man’s house. To add lore, some people say there’s a ghost that frequents The Local. Kerri Boles, a server who has charmed regulars for years, says it has even thrown a pen at her.
Ghost or no ghost, Charlie Kerns wants you to know the new changes are for improvement purposes only.
The missing photo booth? “It was a big, clunky thin, taking up room, and not making money. It had its’ day.”
The eradicated high-backed booths? “They were filthy – disgusting! People hit their hips on them all the time. They were ratted out. But these (he taps the table where we’re sitting) – these are ratted out in a good way and I’m keeping them.”
“We’ve got other plans. I’m not done,” Kerns said of the latest adjustments. “It’s not about destroying things. It’s about making them better. We want to extend the bar. Give people a little more to do…and have DJs, bands.” He wants people to “try to have some fun. Keep things lively. I was worried about it getting middle aged, ya know? My crowd isn’t middle-aged.”
“About 10 people have offered to buy those lights! I made them with my own hands,” Kerns exclaimed while pointing to the liquor bottle-rope light creations. “See those lights? (he points to the half-cut cans screwed into the walls that once housed 10 lbs of jalapenos) I made those, too!” Kerns said he likes to think how you can design the décor without going to Home Depot. While not aesthetic perfection, this is a welcome characteristic of The Local – being real, and genuine, and cehap.
Kerns moved to Atlanta from San Francisco in 1983. He was a musician and a carpenter. He opened EATS in 1993, as well as the now-defunct but very successful Tortilla’s, which he called the first San-Fran style burrito joint on the east coast. It is clear from talking to him that he is passionate about The Local, and that while things may change, the place is never going to turn into a Chotch-y establishment where all the former regulars want to revolt or boycott en masse. “I’ve been stomping this ground for 27 years. The last thing I wanna do is change what’s going on on Ponce,” Kerns said.
Change is life’s only constant. It is also something that can be hard to swallow, especially if it comes in the form of changing your very favorite brand, or band, or bar. So what if it’s about improvement? When you have a favorite, change can seem like a threat or an unwelcome adaptation. It takes “if it’s not broke, why fix it?” a few steps further.
If something is your favorite, a lot of times you don’t want or don’t think you need it to change. A few months ago, Tropicana tried to move away from the classic Tropicana image of a straw poking into an orange on its juice cartons. The attempt failed – the company had underestimated the consumer’s identification and relationship to the image, and soon after the change, Tropicana went back to the much recognized – and apparently loved – original image. Of course, a picture on an orange juice carton and the insides of a neighborhood bar are two very different things. But they are both embraced by many. And people tend to resist change in something which they’ve already cultivated a close relationship. But eventually, they often come around. Maybe orange juice drinkers would have been fine with the image change over time.
The Local changes are merely home improvement, Kerns said. “People might abandon us, but they’ll come back and realize it’s an honest establishment with a slant towards the people that work here,” he said. “This is Never-Neverland. I relate better to young people just about better than my Republican counterparts.”
Photo Credit: Daniel Stabler
“You don’t look like you could eat our whole burger,” Steve Williams, the guy that operates the counter at Little’s Market and Grill on Carroll Street, commented when I placed my order. The order was for a White Oak Pastures grass-fed beef burger (with pimento cheese on a brioche bun), fried pickles, and a lime rickey. I did not anticipate finishing the burger in one sitting, having never done that before. But I did. I savored the burger until nothing was left but little drips from the ketchup and mustard that oozed out of the blissful buttered bun in between bites. I did my best not to ravage my lunch in an uncouth manner that may have rivaled a wild animal.
Little’s has, in a sense, been around for what seems like forever. Leon Little owned the shop in 1929 and it remained in Little ownership until a few years ago, when Lisa Hanson began running the place and tweaked it to cater to a more modern market. Hanson has an impressive history of working with honest food, from being the pickle curator for Slow Food in San Francisco to being a delegate to Terra Madre in Italy. Her endeavor at the modest store that is Little’s hints to such experience; you can taste it in the quality of the food made to order and you can see it in the choice of local, organic goods for sale.
Opening the old glass-paned doors and stepping inside, I am taken back to my childhood in north Florida and south Georgia, where my parents would take me to their favorite 1950’s soda fountains and I would order milkshakes and grilled cheese sandwiches while perched on a stool, fascinated by the eclectic array of goods the store carried. The store still carries all the essentials it did back in the day – Elmer’s glue, penny candy – along with produce from local farmers, raw milk (possibly the only store around that sells it!), grocery goods like organic canned papaya chunks, Spanish marinating sauce, homemade ice cream, and local popsicles from King of Pops.
The place reopened a few weeks ago after being closed due to flooding that’s plagued the shabby – albeit charming – building throughout the years. The first time I visited I chatted with Cabbagetown regular and local musician James Kelly. Lisa and Steve greeted him warmly as he entered; “I’ve never had anything I didn’t like,” he told me with a sincere grin.
On my most recent visit I sampled a gut-busting array of ice creams. Get the Pandan, made with an Asian green that has a unique nutty and refreshing taste, or the Peppermint, made with Starlight mints refined to a powder and dotted with chunks of mint.
If you haven’t had a Banh Mi sandwich, the one served here will rival the Vietnamese you may find on Buford Hwy. Savory pork patties are perfectly accompanied by bright cilantro, crunchy shredded carrots, fresh lettuce and a smattering of cilantro mayo on a French loaf. For such a rich combination, this sophisticated sandwich won my heart as the best lunch I’ve had all year. Of course, finishing off the meal with a carrot cake cookie (cream cheese deliciousness holding two pillowy carrot/raisin/spice cookies together), probably contributed to the Best Lunch of the Year So Far award.
198 Carroll St.
404.524.4539
Tue – Sat. 11 am – 7 pm
Sun 11 am – 4 pm
Photo Credit: Daniel Stabler
Atlanta is a metropolis of the South known for variety of regional fare (pimento cheese, anyone?) and genius entrepreneurship (ahem, Ted Turner). But the city that rebuilt itself from the ground up after Sherman’s March is sadly devoid of any scrumptious – and legal – fare sold curbside. The Atlanta Street Food Coalition is out to change that. The group consists of people dedicated to making street food legal in our city, taking on skeptics and charming localvores one food-filled event at a time.
In the past 2 weeks the Coalition has hosted the 2nd “Urban Picnic” of the year as well as contributing culinary arts to the most recent Castleberry Hill Art Stroll. These gatherings are meant to garner support for the Atlanta Street Food Coalition, and get the Atlanta public to appreciate the value of street culture, small business, and local foods. The Coalition also has taken on the daunting task of working to get the state health board to change laws that prevent food trucks from thriving in Atlanta.
The 2 major laws that have the most preventative effect on potential food carts are:
- No raw food cooking on a truck.
- Vendors can go to only 2 locations. These locations must be state in advance, when a vendor gets their permit.
Our city’s sidewalks are largely dominated by hustling streetwalkers on one end of the spectrum and Buckhead Betty’s on the other end. The little pockets of culture that you find in the colorful areas of town have the potential to evolve into something bigger, especially if vendors are allowed to work for themselves and set up shop curbside. Cue the Urban Picnic. Now we get a taste of how things might be if those state laws were changed.
Notable vendors included:
- The Good Food Truck, which specializes in selling healthy “cones” filled with goodies such as lentils and rice drizzled with parmesan-basil cream.
- Artichoke Bliss, Hayley Richardson’s personal treat trike business (who is also a founder of the ASFC). She sold her delectable signature sandwich with prosciutto and artichoke, as well as PB & J on brioche and homemade ice cream sandwiches.
- King of Pops – he sold out quickly, to no one’s surprise. These handmade, all natural popsicles are already a hit for those who frequent the Buddy’s intersection at N. Highland Ave. or fans of Irwin Street Market.
- The Pickle – a vintage RV turned caterer-on-wheels that served up a most delicious fish taco that featured thick, moist cod and crisp lettuce.
- Souper Jenny – you know, that chick that runs the soup place in Buckhead? Now she has a mobile unit, too.
- West End Burrito – these guys don’t have a food truck, but they whip up yummy burritos made to order and will deliver them straight to your front door.
- The Urban Picnic ended up drawing a crowd of about 400 people. Most seemed genuinely pleased with the vibrant mood and delicious food they were experiencing, while a few naysayers have spoken up to voice their concerns regarding the Coalition. The concern of some: if the ASFC can realistically fight such a big battle with the powers-that-be of the city.
Steven Sheffield embodies such skepticism. He recently posted on the Coalition’s Facebook wall:
- “I’m sure others will agree with my grave concerns regarding putting our trust in the City’s health department to appropriately monitor the health of every food product for every vendor, and that all vendors will be ‘legit.’” and “Great idea, but approach with extreme caution. I don’t trust Atlanta to run anything right.”
But there are a lot of people who do trust Atlanta. And people who see this as a movement that will help foster a sense of street culture; one that will help new and small business owners thrive in the capital of the South.
To sign the petition to help legalize street food in Atlanta, go to www.atlantastreetfood.com or look up the Atlanta Street Food Coalition on Facebook.
The ASFC will be serving up treats on May 23, at Atlanta Streets Alive. Go to www.atlantastreetsalive.com for more information on the event.
Photo Credit: Brittany Shiver
Part one in a series
“The kids are gonna lose their minds,” a longtime employee of the Local commented when I asked him about the changes that have taken place there recently. Apparently, a lot more are coming. He doesn’t want to divulge this early in the game…but there’s a lot of talk going on, and no one seems really sure how much of it is true.
The Local turning into a barbecue joint? I crave their pulled pork doused with mustard BBQ sauce as much as the next person, but I go there for the atmosphere, not just for the food. And it seems like that atmosphere is changing from the hazy, laidback, in-town bar it has been for the past decade into something that is making Local-lovers nervous.
After ownership shifted this spring, I was kicked back on the patio and everything seemed as chill and comforting as usual, until my fried okra came to the table in a plastic basket instead of the normal dinner plate. I was busy salting said unhealthy serving of veggies when my boyfriend Daniel, a faithful Local regular, piped up with indignity: “What happened to the real plates?! Do we really have to eat on plasticware now?”
I looked at my red plastic basket, the kind that formerly only held free popcorn at the Local. A basket my friend Sarah and I are guilty of snagging during particularly inebriated nights in order to enjoy our popcorn to-go style. A basket I’m sure other people have also “accidentally” taken off premises, that may now be buried behind the crockpot in their corner kitchen cupboard (like mine). Honestly, I would probably never five-finger discount a dinner plate. But a plastic basket? That’s just too easy for drunk fools to walk out with or shove into their oversized hobo bag. So, strike one: dinner plates out, plastic baskets in – which scream “bar food” (not barfood) and “steal me.”
Gone is the semi-private second room that housed high-backed booths and divided the noise level; the wall in between it and the main room with the bar has been knocked down. The booths have been replaced with tables and chairs. This means public but secret-feeling drunken make-outs in a back corner booth are no longer an option. It also means that when you open the door and step inside the bar on a Saturday night, the noise level of the crowd is somewhat deafening. And the games have been moved around. What was once a crowded game of four-person foosball can now be a game with a dozen or more onlookers encircling the table. The massive digital jukebox has been relocated to a spot on the wall next to the bathrooms. The are also new light fixtures in the form of empty liquor bottles arranged in a circle with rope lights stuffed inside them. They remind me of dorm rooms and keg parties.
The concern here is that what has been a haven for actual in-town locals for an entire decade is starting to feel like an anywhere-USA bar. The Local has been the place where someone will walk in with a pound of crawfish and get the chef to boil them for free; where the regulars are treated to a free meal on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve.
“It’s just weird…it’s drawing a different crowd,” commented Kiana Pirouz, an employee of Digitas ad agency. “A more mainstream crowd.”
In reference to the wall being torn down, Chad Phillips, longtime sound guy at neighboring Drunken Unicorn, remarked, “It’s not even the noise that matters. It’s that now, the douchebags know where our secret tables were. I heard that a group of guys with popped collars came in last week and thought the Local had just built a second room.”
The verdict is out about other changes in the works, but it was enough for the main man at the Local, Daniel, and a longtime bartender, Grant “Sister Louisa” Henry, to leave and start their own bar…
Part two of this investigative series coming soon
Photo Credit: Daniel Stabler