Taqueria del Sol – Mexico in Atlanta? No, BETTER!

Long time no blog.  Been traveling.  Beaches, sunshine, fried shrimp, plump oysters on the half shell.

But (yawn), you don’t want to hear about my vacation.  You’ve already browsed stacks of Facebook photos.  Same silly, squinty grins. Same wind blown hair and and salty tans.

Let’s move past grinning on the beach and get to very serious Mexican style food.   So, you noticed the sly injection of ‘style’ in the last sentence?  No mystery.  Succulent dishes at the Taqueria del Sol in Atlanta, Georgia go far beyond the expected.  Just in the mood for a quick Mexicanish snack?  Fine, go through the drive through at Ring-a-ding Bell.  But, if you’re serious about the unexpectedly wonderful cuisine that exploits the grand horizons of South-of-the-Border kitchens, head to Taqueria del Sol, or ANY restaurant where Eddie Hernandez dons his apron and lights the fires.  No need to wear a suit, or take out a loan.  This stupendous food is very affordable and the service is casual.

More than likely, Eddie doesn’t remember my various trips to his Azteca Grill in Jonesboro (no longer his), but I remember him and I take pains to follow wherever his culinary travels take him.  Can’t get to one of the two Taquerias in Atlanta?  Try the one in Athens or Decatur Georgia, or Nashville Tennessee.

A tiny vignette concerning Eddie and what makes him special.  I have a couple of friends, actually a married couple, who’ve been Eddie Hernandez groupies for years. One night at the Azteca Grill, Eddie dropped by their table, as he often did, and recommended the turnip greens.  Really?  Turnip greens?  Yep.

How did that happen? They asked.  “A friend brought me a bunch of turnip greens.  I didn’t know much about these greens, but the friend brought me a lot of them, so I figured I’d better learn.”  Learn he did.  They’re still hauntingly delicious and on the menu at Taqueria del Sol.

Eddie has the kind of magical mind that turns a common southern staple into something so fragrant and flavorful you find yourself dreaming about it and waking up in the middle of the night.  What did he do that was so different?  Turnip greens need to have the fool cooked out of them.  Eddie did that, and my guess is, he added chicken broth, onion, garlic, cilantro, and enough jalpeños to tease, without startling.  But, even with those ingredients, make no mistake, the star of the show is still the bowl full of  luscious turnip greens.  Even if you try making them at home, they’re not going to taste the same because, as I said, Eddie has magic.

Enchiladas swimming in the best enchilada sauce I've ever tasted

Soft taco featuring smoked pork.

Three salsas for chips and food!

Eddie’s magic transforms everything.  My go-to tests for Mexican food are enchiladas and chili relleños.  Why?  Because you can tell with one taste if this restaurant is worth the money.  Is the enchilada sauce homemade?  Does cheese flow out of the chilis, and have they been dipped in a light enough batter to make them crispy on the edges, without a heavy flavor of cooking oil?

At the Taqueria del Sol, the enchilada red sauce is far and away the most delicious I have ever tasted. Made and flavored right in Eddie’s kitchen.  No shortcuts and every forkful a delight. And, yes, I have been to Mexico City, Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, and California.  The relleños?  The green chili flavor pops through the mild cheese and lightly fried batter.  You have no idea how many times I’ve been disappointed at pseudo-Mexican joints, but like your first girlfriend’s kiss, Taqueria del Sol’s are relleños that make you salivate, then lock away in your box of culinary memories.

The restaurant's fabulous crab cake sandwich.

But, standard fare is not the half of what this restaurant’s out-of-the-box approach offers.  The day we visited, the specials included a crab cake sandwich, a chicken fried steak with roasted jalapeño gravy, and a taco with Latino marinated pork and Chino kimchee!

Even the folks in Maryland would marvel at the crab cake sandwich. 

Everything on the menu is fine and richly flavored cuisine at bargain prices.  Just to give you a hint, the crab cake sandwich was $9.99 and the previously mentioned turnip greens are $2.49.

Margaritas as they should be: Tequila, lime, and only a hint of sugar.

How about drinks?  Margaritas as they should be mixed!  No syrupy goop.  You wanted to sparkle brightly at the first taste of tequila, right? You like the bite of lemons and limes.

But, maybe a Margarita (Daisy in English) is not on your mind.  Maybe you need a shot or two to lighten your burdens and sooth your savage soul.  At Taqueria del Sol, more than fifty tequilas and mezcals stand at attention, waiting to follow your orders.  Need a chilled brew?  Oh, yeah, all your Mexican brewed favorites, plus many more native species and even more bottles from around the globe.

Shrimp and Corn Chowder

Anything else?  Of course.  Don’t you dare leave without at least a cup of the Shrimp Corn Chowder and a dish of the Jalapeño Cole Slaw.

Think this restaurant is a secret?  Here’s a hint.  People are lined up for a city block when it opens for dinner, and even with the restaurant bulging to capacity, there’s still a line.  Taqueria del Sol is THAT kind of special and Eddie is THAT kind of chef.

Read more about Taqueria del Sol here:  menu, hours, locations:  http://www.taqueriadelsol.com/index.html

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Fox Brothers and Heirloom - Atlanta BBQ

Plenty of barbeque joints around Atlanta.  Most are about as genuine as a Hollywood boob job. Thank da Lawd, there are two super exceptions.  For my money, Atlanta BBQ is all about Heirloom and Fox Brothers.  Period.

I wrote about Heirloom previously.  Here’s the link:

http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2013/11/heirloom-bbq-in-hotlanta.html

I despaired of finding another smoky haven, but then a thoughtful friend dragged my hungry self into Fox Bros.

Fox Bros means BBQ Texas Roadhouse style.  Looks like a converted barn, inside and out.  That’s a good indication that you’re strolling into the heart of barbecue country.

Of course, as every man who’s ever lifted a beer at happy hour on a Friday night knows, looks can be deceiving.

Fortunately, that’s not the case at Fox Bros.  ‘Shamefully delicious’ jumps right off the menu and that’s only the start.  Ask your server about the specials.  Go ahead, punk…ASK!

OK if I skip most of the palaver and get right to the food? Thanks, ‘cause my mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Beef Rib with a side of Brunswick Stew

The star of the show, on this particular hot, thirsty afternoon, was succulent, well-smoked beef rib.  Yep, that’s singular.  Thickly peppered and meaty.  Anybody who can eat more than one of these hunks needs to live on the prairie and track down his own buffalo.

Fork tender, yet succulent and every morsel bursting with flavor.  To get beef this tender, you have to smoke it longer than it takes to sit through four blind dates sober.

What else is worth the mention?  Just about everything.  Pulled pork is as it should be, flavorful and juicy.  Ribs?  You bet!  Then there’s something called Brisket Taquitos.  Cheese, smoked beef, vegetable bits, and a special sauce, tightly wrapped.  Grab some Chicken wings with the look of aged mahogany and the taste of barbecue heaven.

Beef Taquitos

That’s it?  Barbecue.  Not by a long shot.  Take on some Brunswick Stew, grab an order of fried pickles.  Pick out your favorite beverage from the well stocked bar.  I chanced on a Mimosa.  Fresh juice and champagne.  An unconventional choice, but an excellent counterpoint to the spicy Q.

Fried Dill Slices

Mimosas

Think you can make barbecue in the smoker at home?  You’re welcome to try.  Fox Bros sells jars of both sauce and rub.  The problem is, at home you’re contending with a bunch of different things you probably haven’t considered:  type of wood for smoking.  Temperature control.  Smoke control.  Tending the fire - for long periods of time you can’t spare.

I often say that barbecue is more than the cut of meat, the equipment, and the time.  It’s part science, but mostly art.  All cooking is like that to some extent, but barbecue requires a special skill all its own.  Look around.  Do some tasting.  Every BBQ joint the same? 

Fortunately for the folks who live near Atlanta, or are passing through, I’ve done the work for you.  Only two names you need to remember, Fox Bros and Heirloom.

Ok, let’s split some hairs.  Which one is better?  I simply cannot answer the question, but I can point out some differences.  Heirloom is strictly a standup and eat affair.  Also, the four or five sauces are each wonderful, with separate flavors and spiciness.  Plus, because one of the chefs is from Texas and the other from South Korea, you get flavor combinations and accompaniments that catch your eye and take your taste buds where they’ve never been before.  However, the Q (and especially the ribs and brisket) are always the main events.  If you go expecting barbeque taken to the highest level, you’re always going to get what you came for.

Need to sit down with a group of friends and linger over lunch or dinner?  Fox Bros every time.  The beef is out of this world and there are many more traditional side dishes.   Don’t expect the unexpected…with one huge exception:  you’ll never experience BBQ that’s any better than this.

Two Atlanta BBQ things to remember:  Heirloom.  Fox Bros.

Link to Fox Brothers:  http://www.foxbrosbbq.com/fox-bros-atlanta-bbq-menu.html

Summertime South Part I

I often write about European life and idle wanderings, but I’m really a son of the South…the southern United States that is.  Although, I admit to a kinship with other southerners around the globe.

Just returned from a sojourn in the southeastern U.S.  Reconnected with old friends and the old roots.

You talk about lazy!  The South in the summertime goes as slow and warm as melting butter on fresh bread.   People from the north think about going to the beach.  Southerners are a little bit different.

Family.  Friends.  Barbecue and ice cold beer.  Sittin’ outside.  Taking life slower and easier than a tired sloth.

Traveled through the beating heart of the Deep South.  Atlanta, Charleston and places in between.

Backyard Capers.

Don’t drink beer?  Well, sit out back, overlooking a lake.  Pull up a chair to the picnic table and pour a wine cooler, an iced tea, anything that wets down the body and soul.  The blaze of the sun seems to cut through the towering trees and long, low shadows.  Sure, unlike most of Europe, you can go inside and let the air conditioning do the job, but it just isn’t summertime if you’re not outside sweatin’ on the outside and coolin’ down the inside.

The lake is as peaceful as it gets.  Wide and deep. Water like dark glass.  Ducks paddle by, hoping for some breadcrumbs, or cracked corn.  Turtles, just their heads above water, paddle around the dock.  A few bass and sunfish feel the call and join the crowd.

Of course we grab a handful of this and that and toss it.  Couple of white swans elbow their way closer, tame enough to take bits of bread from your fingertips.  Careful they don’t take the fingers, too.

My friends notice a big flock of Canada geese cruising on the other side of the lake.  “Hate those bastards,” he says.  “They scare away the ducks and crap all over the dock, the yard, everywhere they damn well feel like it.”

I know he keeps a couple of pellet guns around.  “Think you can hit ‘em from here?”  I know he can’t.  The geese are specks, maybe a thousand yards away.

He fetches the pellet gun and gives it a pump.  Slides a .177 pellet in the chamber and raises the barrel like he’s aiming for a moon crater.  Can’t see where the projectile hits, but the geese hear the snap of the air and gently move even further away.  I mention it to my buddy.

“They won’t come closer while the swans are here,” he says.  “Swans don’t take any crap from anything or anybody.”  If the pun was intentional, he doesn’t show it.

His wife comes up from behind.  “I’ve got some cans saved up, if you want to do some target practice.”

The pellet gun is ready.

We go back to our chairs at the picnic table while she sets up the cans across the yard, about fifteen yards away.  My buddy and I take turns plinking.  The .177 is not a big caliber. A .22 would dwarf it, but the cans still fly off when you connect.

He’s a better shot than I am, but the game is still entertaining and we go on for about an hour, pausing for sips of wine cooler, or to nosh a bit on cheese, crackers, and sausage we picked up at Whole Foods.

Meanwhile the wives chat about things that wives chat about.

As our enthusiasm slows, his wife comes up with another stroke of genius.  Fireworks!  Nobody in the neighborhood seems to care that we spend the next hour blowing up the backyard.  Sparks everywhere.  Some shots go high in the air before explosions send small, colorful comets across the sky.

Fireworks!

Darkness falls late, but suddenly.  We turn our attentions to greater libations and to the evening primrose, a flower that blooms at night.  While we watch, one flower after another pops open.  By the next afternoon, the flowers die and another set of blooms take their place.

This is real time, not time lapse.

In the south, you’re never bored.  As a last resort, grab another adult beverage, settle back, and watch the flowers bloom.

Farmers’ Markets

Another favorite summertime sport is a visit to a Farmers’ Market.  Unlike the European versions, which can quickly devolve into stands of cheap clothing, soft ice cream vendors, stalls with crude leather goods and the like, many Southern Farmers’ Markets, like the one in Charleston South Carolina, do a better job of vetting the participants.  Yes, they include artists and food vendors, but these are top of the line and in no way detract from the bushels and bushels of home grown fresh fruit and vegetables.  One man, selling local shrimp, cries out, “These shrimp were swimming yesterday!”

Being a doubter by nature, I check my watch. 9 o’clock in the morning means those shrimp haven’t been on ice more than 12 to 18 hours.  Can’t get much fresher unless you’re working on the shrimp boat.

We check out the shrimp and grits, down a coffee, share a fresh donut that was in hot grease just moments ago.  In a nearby gazebo, two guitars and two singers belt out some tolerable John Denver and Willie Nelson.

Shrimp and Grits

 We get up and wander.  Paintings that capture the soul of Charlestonian life, such as sea creatures, historic buildings, cobblestone streets, and plantation houses.  Other vendors sell homemade fruit jams and relishes, kettle corn from a huge copper pot, fresh bread and local cheeses, home grown herbs in plastic pots, pottery that catches the eye, hand crafted wooden furniture from salvaged planks. But, nothing detracts from the bounteous mounds of sweet, yellow and white corn, red and brown skinned heirloom tomatoes, shiny black eggplants, bright green okra, and summertime fruits.  Everything is local and vine or tree ripened.  The green striped watermelons are begging to be iced and sliced, peaches that capture the gold of the sun are ready to burst.

One lady and her helper, who might be her teenage daughter, offers samples of relish on a smooth cracker.  “Been making these in my house since I can’t remember when.  My momma and grandmomma made ‘em.  Everything comes straight from my garden to my kitchen.”

Golden honey from local bees.  I’m traveling, but I can’t help myself.  I buy all I can carry.  Some I’ll give to friends, some my wife and I will eat.

This is summertime in the South, with a warmth that feels like home.