The Cafe on Concourse B

Really, had I found charm at the Atlanta airport?

I’ve read the articles about good meals that food writers discover in airports, and they make me wonder what’s wrong with me.  Even though I’ve had a few bits of luck (Seattle, Baltimore, D.C.),  it’s not the norm. I assume it’s because I’m just not that clever.

So I didn’t want to get my hopes up when I stepped off the escalator at Concourse B in the Atlanta airport this week. But there it was, looking so gosh darned charming, a “sidewalk” cafe in front of a bookstore. White table cloths. Twinkling lights.  People lingering over glasses of wine and pots of tea as if they were at Laduree in Paris.

I had two hours before my flight might even hope to start boarding. I decided to give this Cafe Intermezzo a try.

I was led to a table inside, not far from the curving bar, a space with warm wood paneling, polished copper accents, and more white linens.  As I balanced my stuff in the spare chair at my table, I looked up to see the guy across from me accepting delivery of a giant piece of red velvet cake. I don’t get the fuss over that particular flavor, but I had to admit to myself: the cake looked pretty good. He swore it was and did an admirable job of polishing it off.

Malva Pudding, Baby

Baby on Board

Ah, Peachtree City, Georgia–a suburban vision that includes miles of golf cart trails and a dedicated community of golf cart drivers.

Yes, that’s a baby riding shotgun, zooming along to dinner no doubt, as was I, on a variation of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

At least he’s strapped into a cart seat.

I did not know before arriving that Peachtree City was golf cartcentric.  Nor did I realize I’d be sampling South African influenced cuisine.  When my host coasted to a stop in front of the Georgia Shrimp Co., I thought Forrest Gump not Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

The Hil at Serenbe

Sunset at Serenbe

There are a couple of restaurants at Serenbe (outside of Atlanta) that I’ve been wanting to check out.  I used a recent trip as an occasion to visit one of the them–The Hil.

Actually, I was giving chef/owner Hilary White a second chance.  I’d tried her cooking at another fancy farm and been disappointed.  She’d managed to make some of the juiciest pork on the planet come out dry.  An eyewitness reported that White had trimmed the fat off before cooking.  I had my doubts about any chef who’d do that.