Olympic medals are being handed out in London, but a gold should be handed across the Atlantic to Taste of India.
In a sunlit corner office overlooking Ellis Square, the fate of Savannah's gastronomical world hangs in the balance.
That blessed food that we call pork barbecue is in reality a mystical combination of just the right amount of hardwood smoke, low and slow heat, and time. It is food that stirs the critic in us all, summons our inner 'cue snob and relegates disbelievers to the canned vegetable aisle.
I knew that Café Gelatohh at the eastern gateway to City Market was the city's best destination for handcrafted, small batch gelato. What I didn't know was that I could score an amazing sandwich to accompany my creamy, frozen treat.
If you've been wondering what's going on at construction sites and vacant lots around town, you're not alone - especially when it comes to wondering whether you'll find a new place to whet your appetite.
Savannah's 88–year–old Byrd Cookie Co. is an institution, a brand as widely recognized in the national gourmet food arena as it is respected by generations of Savannah gift-givers.
Tubby's Tank House in Thunderbolt is darned near an institution. Its popular sunset happy hour on Thursday sometimes swells to monumental proportions - and its venue for local bands has provided many upstarts with a viable stage.
World of Beer tapped its first keg early last week, and the Broughton Street watering hole is already beer nirvana.
In addition to the usual lineup of music, dance, and cuisine, the Savannah Asian Festival features a very special guest this year.
A few minutes wait at a restaurant is a good thing. It sends two messages: That people enjoy being there, and that, all things being equal, the place is a success.
Granted, lunchtime at Wednesday may not be prime time at Wilmington Island's Flying Fish Bar & Grill. I thought that would be a good thing.
Gata's Sports Bar & Grille, Hinesville's newest restaurant and nightspot, will have its grand opening on June 7.
Aaah, the nearness of summer! Backyard barbecues, marshmallows on sticks over the fire pit - what could be better?
The second location of Screamin' Mimi's takes the familiar pizza joint model that has been so successful on East Oglethorpe Avenue and added live music and a full bar. It's a fitting upgrade for the pizza restaurant as it moves "uptown."
The Gyro Shop hosted a grand-opening ribbon cutting May 3 in conjunction with the Liberty County Chamber of Commerce.
If my wife wasn't such a good cook, I'd be 50 pounds lighter. I'm not blaming her, though.
My English IV teacher, Reomia Unold, said ambrosia was the food of the gods. I disagreed and told her so. She shook her head and sighed.
I'm often asked why I don't write other commentaries. It's better to write about things you know about, and it's easier to do it when it's something most folks can agree on - like food.
Basic training in 1973 at Fort Jackson, S.C., was not a culture shock to me. Daddy was a Marine, so I grew up under strict supervision and was used to being dropped for pushups or called a maggot.
Back in the Stone Ages - before hot wings were invented to satiate armchair quarterbacks, and when pro-football games were on Friday, Saturday or Monday and did not interfere with Sunday church services - football fanatics chowed down pounds of cheese, summer sausage and tater chips during the game.
Sometimes at a public gathering someone will privately comment on one of my food columns. Most are kind, telling me how much they agree with my assessment of steaks, seafood or certain restaurants. Others tell me up front I got it all wrong about which is better - North Carolina, Georgia, Texas, Memphis, Kansas City or St. Louis barbecue.
The other night, I enjoyed a microwave corn dog.
You probably wouldn't notice the place if you passed it a hundred times, maybe on your way to Lake Mayer for a picnic, or coming back from a shopping trip at The Pig in Sandfly - unless you have an eye for Spanish and a taste for delectable baked goods.
Running a restaurant is hard work. Just ask Estella - aka Dr. Estella Edwards Shabazz, city alderwoman for Savannah's 5th District.
When my wife and I were preparing for our first child, we attended a bunch of classes about birthing. They told us our daughter wouldn't develop a sense of taste for the first year or longer.
Jams, jellies and fruit preserves always have been an essential part of what I considered dessert - a cathead biscuit smothered with butter and homemade jam, jelly or preserves.
I chose the infantry because I love being outdoors. For years, I shivered in icy arctic winds, roasted under a blistering desert sun, melted under a thick jungle canopy or suffered from hypoxia on some remote mountain top.
Other than Atkinson's peanut-butter bars and the orange-slice jelly candies I enjoyed as a kid, I've been good about keeping candy at arm's length. But when I was stationed in Italy, I discovered that European chocolatiers take chocolate to a whole new level. Had my unit not rotated to Fort Bragg early, I might now be diabetic.
I prefer to buy organic fruits, veggies and meats. Rarely can I afford that, however, so I at least want it fresh. If I can't get it fresh, the next acceptable level is frozen. If I can't even get it frozen, I'll accept canned, depending on what's on the label.
It recently occurred to me that I've avoided any deep discussion on ethnic foods, so let's talk.