Eat my way through Atlanta? Never!

Atlanta, land of yuppie grocery stores. While here on business I've made the most of my time: learning streets, getting lost, getting found again, and snapping up tasty goodies from the local grocery shops.

My tastes aren't that exotic, I don't think—except, perhaps, when it comes to cheese. Cheese fascinates me—the texture, the smell, the taste (yum). So I guess it's no surprise that I've come back with a few different bits to try.I didn't need much from Fresh Market—just a bag of sea salt, as I'm going to run out fairly soon. In bulk it's cheap, and I'm all about cheap when it comes to pantry staples. While at the Beverage Warehouse, I picked up six six-packs of Woody's Ice (blueberry flavor) for spouse and various friends. A pity it's not available in Huntsville…

But it's Harry's that gets me in the wallet every single time I come to Atlanta. I walk in thinking, "Yeah, I only need [item]," and I walk out with three bags and a growly stomach.


  • 3 bottles of Jones Soda (cherry soda, cream soda, and orange cream soda)
  • Fresh feta. French. From actual sheep. Not cows—feta isn't, and shouldn't, come from cows. A chunk of the real stuff, stored in brine.
  • Italian Montasio cheese. Nutty, a little bit of tang, solid but not grainy. One taste in the store ended up with me walking out with a third of a pound of the stuff.
  • Spanish 'Drunken Goat' cheese. Come on, who can resist a cheese with a name like that? It's goat's cheese aged in red wine. Supposedly a sweet cheese with just a hint of, well, goat. Should be tasty.
  • Harry's "not-so-ordinary-white-bread." Half a loaf. Gotta have something to go with the cheese, of course!
  • Dulce de leche. I have a massive weakness for this stuff. Most caramel sauce sold in the States is flavored with artificial flavorings. You don't realize it until you taste the real thing—made from cow's milk and sugar and basically nothing else. This particular can is from Argentina, I believe—I have trouble finding it, so when I find a bottle, I purchase it. Wondrous on ice cream, it is.
  • Mint chutney. Each time I've had curry lately, I've found myself wishing I had some around. Just a little dab—doesn't take much, so this bottle will last for ages.
  • Greek olives. The real thing, packed in brine, pits and all. Somehow I sense this item, plus a few gnawings of cheese, will be my dinner on the road home tonight.

Not bad for $27. Not bad at all.

After this, I'll sign off, go meet with my client, and then probably break down and catch the 4:15 showing of The Deep End, starring Tilda Swinton. I have serious doubts about whether or not this movie will ever come to Huntsville, so I figure I should take the opportunity to see it in theatres.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch will have to wait until I return to Atlanta next weekend.

On the way home today, I'm going to stop by Pappy Red's and pick up some barbecue. (Or pulled pork or whatever the rest of you non-Southerners call the stuff.) Pappy Red's is the customary Huntsville traveller's treat. A pound of pulled pork, a package of buns, and dinner's ready the moment you get home.

Not bad, not bad.