Gourmet Dining, Part Three

Bacchus -- the god of wine and revelry; also known as Dionysus

Bacchanalia -- the riotous, boisterous revels associated with Bacchus; also, an award-winning restaurant in Atlanta

Last night, Max and I celebrated our first three years with an anniversary dinner at Bacchanalia, ranked by Zagat as the #1 restaurant in Atlanta for 11 years in a row! While our evening wasn't really riotous or boisterous, it was definitely marked by incredible wine and culinary revelry.

This was our third "fine dining" excursion here in Atlanta. Our first stop was the now-defunct Seeger's in January 2005; then, we celebrated both Christmas and New Year's at the ridiculously upscale Dining Room at the Ritz-Carlton Buckhead last December. Bacchanalia has become my momentary favorite, mainly because we could enjoy the gourmet cuisine in a more relaxed environment.

After starting the evening with our favorite gin cocktails (gin and tonic for Max, gin gimlet for me), we were treated to not one but two amuses-bouches -- a bite-sized puff pastry filled with cheese and a small sipping cup of cold potato soup topped with pickled onion. Then the fun really began!

For starters, I selected the trochon of foie gras, a sinfully creamy disc of liver served with what appeared to be chunks of -- I kid you not -- peanut brittle. The buttery warmth of the foie gras in combination with the crunchy sweetness of the brittle was an unexpected delight. Max started with a heaping bowl of pan fried sweetbreads that had been stewed in a luscious brown sauce with potatoes and onions. Who knew pancreas could be so delicious? Seriously, that bowl of "sweetbreads stew" could make for some mighty expensive comfort food!

For the main course, Max opted for the deliciously savory grilled duck breast served with spicy corn pancakes while I went for the tenderloin "pot au feu," consisting of three crazy-tender slices of beef tenderloin, a Kobe short rib, a rich beef broth filled with green beans, onions, and garlic, and a ... giant bone from which I dug out the decadent marrow with a specially-designed "spoon." (Note: marrow = pure fat, not so tasty, and the only unappealing portion of the meal.) (Additional note: I've eaten marrow. Have you?)

At Bacchanalia, the third course is called "cheese and contrast." My cheese was a creamy, fresh-made goat's milk cheese contrasted with pickled beets and sprinkled with arugula. I used to make fun of my mother for eating beets. I have to apologize. Those beets were delicious -- and I have the blood-red beet juice stains on my white dress shirt to prove it! Max's cheese was a parmigiano-reggianno contrasted with caramelized dates, dates so caramelized that Max said they tasted like a date cake!

Speaking of cake...dessert! At Bacchanalia each dinner really gets TWO desserts because prior to being served the dessert you've ordered, you are presented with an "intermezzo." Last night's "intermezzo" was an incredible lemon-buttermilk panna cotta topped with fresh blueberries and an almond granola. (I would have left satisfied if this had been the one-and-only dessert!) Max's choice for his actual dessert was a goat's cheesecake sitting atop a sweet brittle and topped with fresh blackberries. I opted for the inexplicably delicious summer squash cake, topped with a dollop of ice cream and served with slivers of caramelized slices of summer squash!

As seems to be the rule at most fine dining establishments, dessert is not the end of your meal because you are always presented with petit-fors -- caramelized grapefruit, brown sugar shortbread, hazelnut brownies, and madeleines. After lingering over coffee for a few minutes, we were presented with another surprise on our way out of the restaurant -- two loaves of bread (multi-grain and olive), one of which we have made into toast and are currently eating as our breakfast.