February 20th, 2005, 6:50 pm

Great Atlanta Eats

smolcajete.jpg Well, this traveling for business thing isn’t so bad when you find yourself at Zocalo Creative Mexican Cuisine. , a very fabulous and authentic Mexican restaurant in Atlanta. This dish was unbelievable: sautéed shrimp in tomatillo sauce, with chunks of melted queso fresco. The combination was incredible. Unfortunately, the hunks of nopales and serrano were less plentiful than I imagined; just one each. Served with a side of black bean sauce, and chorizo sausage … ummm. Wrap that shit up in a fresh corn tortilla, and we’re in business. I love love love Zocalo. Just one quibble: there aint too much “creative” about this joint — it’s as authentic as can be.

shaking_tuna.jpg Oh — like I wasn’t happy enough. I got me some shaking tuna (Ca Luc Lac) for dinner from the uber hip, upscale Nam Restaurant. This was absolutely faboo — lovely seared tuna; just spicy and tangy enough on the exterior, and raw in the center. Sublime texture. The purple onions were just the right accent; as was my Kirin. Absolutely awesome experience. The only sour note? The 45 year old lawyer on a date with a college girl next to us. She mentioned a friend who was into law, he suggested patent law, which she had “heard of.” He explained how Coke would patent their recipe, and would sue Pepsi if they replicated it. “Oh, I don’t like Pepsi,” she replied. Groan…

scrambled-chickeneggbacon.jpg And for breakfast, some scrambled eggs with chicken, bacon, and roasted onion from the Brewhouse. The chicken was thankfully moist, and the bacon was thick and peppery, but those “homestyle fries” … ugh. As you can see, they were chopped up french fries. No go, there pals. The breakfast was OK, but nothing I’d recommend or go back for. Maybe next time.

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Comment


2 Comments

  1. Coley:

    you didn’t happen to order a margarita or two w/ that mexican food, did you?

  2. LauraFries.com:

    Nope. I initially had two. And at the end of that, I certainly didn’t take offense when the waiter pointed out that I had not eaten the serrano, and declare to him, “Alright, now you’re pissing me off,” and take a steaming bite out of said pepper, only to desperately need another margarita. That just ain’t my style.