Eating Atlanta.

A few posts ago, I said that I was getting a taste of Atlanta. I meant it.

Literally, a taste. Most of my excursions are centered around food.

A new friend wanted to try brunch at Bistro Niko, so we visited after church. Verdict? Not my favorite, but a fun step out of the ordinary and worth it for the good conversation that came alongside my Eggs Napolese.

I am going through a tile obsession fueled by this gorgeous post, so the inside of the restaurant fed a certain part of me.

Full disclosure: I don't usually eat butter-drenched French cooking. Even in France, I tend to gravitate towards ethnic restaurants (like Häagen Dazs). I just prefer other countries' cuisines much more - clams + wine sauce from Italy, the salty + umami + mouthfeel of sushi from Japan, the meat + cheese in Tex-Mex (the most glorious country of them all)....

But I make exceptions for anything served with caviar toast. It feels too indulgent to turn down!

Besides - we were sat on a patio, the OJ was fresh, and the sun was shining. Très bien!

Now this is where it gets good.

I have been dying to share about my little taste of España at The Iberian Pig. I could go on and on and on some more about this meal....so I will.

First of all, my dinner companion - who patiently waited on me to take rather poor pictures before digging into each dish - went to high school with the owner, and so we had a chance to meet him and his fabulous staff, who spoiled us all night with incredible service, endless cheese, and perfect pairing suggestions.

Also, this guy was sitting next to us. Confirmed by his Instagram account.

My favorite thing? The "BWD", or bacon-wrapped dates. They weren't pretty, so I didn't snap a pic, but I wouldn't leave without ordering them during future visits. Sweet, salty, crunchy, chewy....bacon-wrapped dates would probably be on my "last meal" list. Remind me of this if it ever comes to that, please. I'm afraid in the moment I'd say something like chicken fingers. 

Moving forward.

At the waiter's suggestion, Monte Enebro queso (made by only one person in the world, in Spain), with Lomo Iberico de Bellota (pork, y'all), which immediately appeared on a board. Accompanied by honey and black truffle oil. I spoke tourist-with-a-phrase-book caliber Italian to the gentleman preparing the charcuterie boards, Michele, who snuck us cheese throughout the night and, at the end of the meal, tucked some bread into our arms before sending us on our way.

Said [patient] waiter was able to find us each of glass of red wine that we liked - we were greedy, difficult little diners and couldn't pick something from the list, so he had to pull out some of the special bottles not mentioned.

Onto small plates:

Pork belly tacos. Oh-a-my-a-goodness. Melt in your mouth shredded pork with corn salsa, an avocado cream, and arugula. The kind of dish you want to recreate but know you never will.

Halibut, delivered to the restaurant just that night and served with a corn cream. Almost (almost) too dang pretty to eat.

Manchego Mac 'n' Cheese. You'd put your fork into the dish, pull it out, and a long trail of cheese stretched back to the plate. That is all.

Finally, albondigas, or boar sausage meatballs. I struggled with figuring out how to get them and the mac 'n' cheese in my mouth at the same time. What a glorious predicament.

The sweet waiter tried his very hardest to talk us into dessert, but we made a convincing argument that we were so full we wouldn't enjoy it. The menu is big enough and tasty enough that it will certainly warrant a return trip, and so we promised to try whatever he suggested (brown-sugar crusted caramelized cheese?!) when we came back.

Don't even think - go if you get the chance! Full dinner + a cocktail + a glass of wine for two runs at about $150 with tip, and we left some behind. Located just off of the square in downtown Decatur, it's a great casual date spot, and because the meal comes in waves, it's perfect for long, lazy conversations.

Leave time for the ooohs and aaahs.