“Is it spiiiicy?” a man at the second meeting of the Food Porn Supper Club whined to the server. They were at Stir It Up in Little Five Points and the whiner was determined to find the blandest thing on the menu.
“Jamaican food is by definition spicy,” someone at the table said. “But it’s not all spicy-hot.”
Robert, host of the club, wanted to tie the whiner up and torture him with Scotch Bonnet chili peppers, the world’s hottest. Nothing annoyed him as much as people’s aversion to spicy food. He’d given up taking most friends to ethnic restaurants along Buford Highway, for example.
Robert looked around the dining room of the new Watershed on Peachtree and marveled at how dark and woody it was compared to the original restaurant in Decatur. Indigo Girl Emily Saliers, the owner, had closed that one and reopened in this new south Buckhead location.
“I hear it looks very different,” said Robert’s date, Brandon.
Robert Lingston, a longtime resident of Midtown Atlanta, dipped his napkin in his water glass and rubbed a dribble of a garlic-laden sauce off his red polo shirt. He looked across the table at his friend Janet and sighed.
“I’m having a midlife crisis,” he said, looking around the room. He pushed each sleeve of his shirt up to better reveal his biceps. “I really am.”
“Isn’t this like your second or third midlife crisis?” Janet asked.
They were at Pura Vida in Poncey-Highland. Robert, a dedicated but gym-compulsive foodie, loved Chef Hector Santiago’s tapas. His favorite was the Puerto-Rican classic, mofongo – mashed plantains, carnitas and bits of pork cracklings.