Restaurant Spotlight: The Red Tomato

The Red Tomato
by Molly Wilkins

Bang for Buck - 3
Service - 3.75
Atmosphere - 4
Food - 3

For this issue’s restaurant spotlight, I headed a little north to The Red Tomato in quaint Bolingbroke. I had been a couple of times, but not often enough to be very familiar with them. Well… except for the dinner house salad and THAT I knew I had to have again! My parents and my husband William made the trip with me. The ambience of the restaurant is very cozy. It’s in what appears to be a former home, without giving the diner a feeling of being crowded. Our server made some excellent wine suggestions. I ordered the Whitehaven and my husband had a merlot.

To start off, we had the Assorted Cheese Plate, the Black Eyed Pea Cakes, and the Escargots, which is something my husband gets wherever he goes. William managed to talk my mother and me into trying the escargots, and I have to say they were quite good. The texture and the taste were both incredible—granted, I do not have a trained palate for escargots but they were good: buttery and just the right amount of lemon. The assorted cheese plate came with Danish blue cheese, green onion, and brie along with a strawberry clover honey. The blue cheese and brie were good alone but even better with the honey. I did not care for the green onion except when paired with the honey. The black eyed pea cakes were amazing, not too crusty, and not much filling but great whole black eyed peas. Very simply, it was as if your mother had condensed a whole pot of black eyed peas into cake form, just salty enough and very tasty. They were served with a bacon cornbread, which was a good compliment with the cakes.

The house salad is just to die for: I could make a meal of it alone. Seriously. I had it once at a wedding rehearsal dinner and knew I had to have it again. It comes with baby greens, candied nuts, cantaloupe, grapes, pineapple and a blue cheese balsamic vinaigrette. It’s so good that after the first time I had it I tried to replicate it at home (not much luck).

For the entrée’, I ordered the salmon, which was served with tortellini and an alfredo sauce. My salmon was too salty for my tastes, but it might have been because it was presented with the tortellini and alfredo on top. My father ordered the Chef’s filet, which was not bad but was cooked a little too much for what he had ordered (that happens sometimes). My mother had the chicken piccata and it was very good, very tender. That’s especially hard to do with such a thin piece of meat but they pulled it off nicely. It was not only good, but the shining star of our entrees.

Side note on the side dishes: the blue cheese bacon grits were amazing! I had to take it home, however, but it was still good the next day. And the double chocolate Godiva cheesecake for dessert for to die for.

The service was good. For example: Our server was amiable and made nice conversation when appropriate, but when he missed that both my husband and my father were out of their beverage, a second server noticed. Even more impressively, she knew my father’s drink of choice. So a few rookie mistakes, but no one is perfect. Other than that our server was spot on. (And I will remember his wine recommendation for next time.)

As expected, the Red Tomato provided a comfortable atmosphere with high-end meals in the charming setting one finds in isolated Bolingbroke. If you don’t mind the drive, you should have a good time.

Our Lady of Pizza: Tina Dickson @ Ingleside Village Pizza

"I'm just a squirrel saving my nuts," Tina Dickson

Though dreams of escape are the norm in most small towns, in Macon the desire to bolt from the bubble seems even greater. It feels like a black hole dragging its children backward all over the world on the inevitable way back home. Some blame a Creek Indian curse.

Sitting in her restaurant, Ingleside Village Pizza, Tina Dickson doesn’t mention any of that. She just talks, smiling to punctuate the end of stories, glowing as she does like the many-splendored lights that hang from the exposed ceiling and homemade wall mounts for kooky table lamps. Even so, there’s no doubt she understands the black hole thing real well. In fact, it’s how she became “Our Lady of Pizza”.

Raised in Macon, Tina chased Atlanta’s siren song, shuffling off to GSU for a degree in Hotel, Restaurant and Travel Administration. “I always knew I wanted to work in restaurants, but I didn’t want to own. I thought I’d just climb the ladder somewhere, become an executive or something like that.” Legitimized, Tina set out to climb that ladder and become an executive… or something like that.

The only company that was hiring was a big franchisee of Domino’s in Atlanta. So, her first rung was the assistant managership of a store where she dabbled in all the wonderful roles available in corporate pizza delivery. Well, except for the actual delivery. “I was never good at that,” she says. “The 30 minute limit was too much pressure.” But still she was on her way. Her boss sold his stores back to corporate in 1989 after what Tina ominously refers to as “The Noid Incident”. (Seriously, she leaned in and whispered with a low growl “The Noid Incident”. It was creepy.)

For those with limited late-80s pop culture consciousness, the Noid was a chronically crossed-eyed and bone-deep evil character decked out in a red, hooded unitard with what appeared to be bunny ears. His sole goal was to ruin pizzas, which he did with crazed aplomb, like Anton Chigurh. Naturally, Domino’s cautioned the public to “Avoid the Noid!” Unfortunately, an Atlanta man, Kenneth Noid, thought it was an orchestrated attack on him. So he took an area store siege, holding employees hostage and demanding $100,000, a pizza and a copy of “The Widow’s Son”. The Noid, henceforth, disappeared.

Tina was promoted to supervisor, overseeing nine stores in Little Rock, AR. That unfortunately coincided with Domino’s founder Tom Monaghan having a religious awakening, leaving to do missionary work. (What would you expect from a guy who titled his autobiography “Pizza Tiger”?) The company sold off several stores and shipped Tina off to Louisville, KY, where she’d rinse and repeat in just six months. This time, she was offered a demotion. Instead, she decided to—you guessed it!—move back to Macon.

Her sister knew the sister of the guy that was running Sammy Café Nouvelle—Michael Keen. She worked there for six months before it closed, following Michael to Victorian Village, which also soon closed. Tina then worked upstairs at Rivalry’s On Cherry before joining the staff at The Rookery. (While at Rivalry’s, she met Trevor, her future husband. He came up to see about putting his motorcycle helmet behind her bar and then asked, “So when are we getting married?” Tina answered, “When are you available?”)

The pointless job cycle provoked her and roommate Saralyn Harvey. “We both got tired of working for people who didn’t know what they were doing,” Tina says. “What Macon didn’t have and desperately needed was good pizza. We decided we could do it. That was Super Bowl Sunday.”

Together they opened Ingleside Village Pizza on July 28, 1992. Two little boys, Adam and Josey, circled the parking lot on their bikes, waiting to be the first customers. When the clock struck noon, IVP was packed. It’s been that way since.

In the spring of 1995, Tina bought out Saralyn, who now owns Good to Go. And Tina was pregnant with daughter Eliza. Despite that tough stretch, which she now describes as a long blur, she pulled it off. More challenges came and others will, but Tina and IVP sally forth. Without a hint of sarcasm or false modesty—just the sweetness of 100% real cheese—Tina says, “I’m the luckiest person I know.” The closer the first IVP franchise gets to opening and the longer the original stays open, the luckier Macon gets.

Food Notes: Joe's Ravioli's & the Oasis

Joe's Ravioli

The doors to Joe’s Ravioli opened on January 8^th and with this, Macon gained a little slice of old world Italian cuisine—straight from the streets Brooklyn. Joe Bocchino’s imported New York pastas are all handmade and his sauces are traditionally created with fine Italian tomatoes. He carries on his Grandma Elise’s love of cooking through doing it as she would: from scratch and with plenty to go around. Open Tues-Thurs 11:30-8:30, and Fri-Sat 11:30-9:30 at 3975 Arkwright Road in Macon. 478.787.0211

Oasis

If you hadn’t already noticed, the Oasis, a new spot for dining and entertainment, is open downtown. Owner Leslie Smith says she loves entertaining and putting smiles on faces. Whether you are looking to munch on tasty wings or chicken tenders (which she serves till 2am), watch a game on one of the eight TVs, or shoot a game of pool on one four tables you are certain to enjoy a good time. If the excellent hospitality doesn’t bring you back, then the live bands and happy hour specials will. Come by Mon-Tues 11:30-5, Wed-Fri 11:30-3 and 5-2am, and Sat-Sun 8pm-2am. 580 Cherry St. 478.741.9070

The Fountain of Juice

Great grub springs eternal from The Fountain of Juice

by Molly Wilkins

Out of Five Stars:
Service: 5
Food: 4.75
Atmosphere: 4.5
BFYB: 3.75

Macon’s newest lunch hot spot is “The Fountain of Juice”. What I love most about may not even be the food but the atmosphere, the fact that I can go in and talk to everyone. I only frequent places where I feel like I am treated special. But not only do they make ME feel like this, I can tell that everyone gets the same kind of specialized attention here, which is probably why it’s always so busy. Brittany Poole is always quick to say hello and can carry on a conversation with anyone about anything. Owner Natasha Philips, daughter of world-famous Natalia del Basso-Orsini, is there every day, interacting with customers as they create tasty delights. Her husband Carl’s work isn’t just behind the counter—those are his paintings on the walls!

By now, I’ve eaten just about everything there it seems—this was not nearly my first visit there. They offer a wide variety of sandwiches, smoothies, and even casseroles to take home. In the past I have gotten the sandwich with the slice of pear in it, I wouldn’t ordinarily pick something like that except that Brittany convinced me. She also convinced me, on this occasion, to get the roast beef, and my husband got the California club. I’m not much of a roast beef eater, in fact I generally stay away from it, however this was amazing. The roast beef was sliced so thinly, and cooked just right, at slightly over medium well. My husband really enjoyed the turkey paired with the avocado in the California club.

They try to use all natural products, and organic as much as possible, which of course will make your price higher. I’d say for any other lunch spot they are about average, if maybe not a little higher in price. For me however, it’s worth it because I feel good about going there. (If my cupcake is all natural then it doesn’t seem so bad that it taste so darn good.) FOJ makes getting good taste good. For example: try a smoothie. Brittany slipped me a sample of the strawberry-banana smoothie. (This is also a good example of how they make you feel special—they’re always offering you samples of other stuff so you always leave stuffed!)

The strawberry-banana smoothie is great. (Editor’s note: So is the Mon Cherie!) I also like the “de-tox special”. Some of that could be because I like the idea of “de-toxing” my system. The last time I got it, Brittany suggested adding the protein to it so that it would “stay with me the rest of the day”. It was really good, I was hesitant about adding vanilla-flavored protein to the pineapple and pomegranate in the de-tox smoothie, but it worked out. Better than I thought, even.

You might see a theme here: If you don’t know what to get: ask Brittany. Of course Natasha and Carl have good suggestions as well, but Brittany is usually the first to encounter you when walking in. Remember: FOJ is in a small space, but the word is that they’ll soon be expanding into the space to be vacated by neighboring Fitness Firm. Until then, I would advise everyone to go early or prepare to be cramped.

Eating with Uncle Eddie

Edgar’s Bistro

By 8pm, the restaurant was fairly quiet with just a few diners still working on their meals. Coupled with the isolated locale of Edgar’s Bistro just a stone’s throw from Lizella, it wasn’t hard to feel both alone and away from Macon. The room itself was washed in deep, dark colors that lent warmth like a winter jacket, wrapping us up in an embrace of a comfort that comes when exclusivity and privacy meet. Though I’m not accustomed to fine dining, the atmosphere made it easy to play along, filling in the gaps of my imagination’s attempts to suss out an idea of what it might be like if I were wealthy.

We were quickly met by a server who apologized for how long it took her, saying she was alone on the floor. I hadn’t noticed a lag—the service at Denny’s is rarely as prompt. I took a deep breath and opened the menu, afraid to look at the prices, thinking I should’ve taken out a loan first. To my most pleasant surprise, the dishes weren’t any more costly than a night at Carabbas—though judging from the descriptions, the selections were far more creative.

In fact, I made my decisions based on how many words I recognized. I felt safe getting the New York Strip—not only because I knew what that was and would get to feign knowledge following my order with “medium rare” but because it came paired with blue cheese potatoes and asparagus, all of these being foods I could identify. Having previously interviewed Chef Jean, who heads Goodwill’s culinary institute, Polly’s, I figured out which language some of it was. Unfortunately, my two years of high school French had long since left me so I had no idea what “haricot verts” were.

My much smarter, savvier companion made a bolder choice, going with the crab-stuffed prawn, which came with lobster risotto. I’m cool with lobster and risotto, but the word prawn frightens me because it means gigantic shrimp, which is an oxymoron my pea-brain can’t handle. Ironically enough, when her dish arrived, she stared at it quixotically because the prawn seemed abnormally large, even for prawn; it was up to me to unravel the mystery. She sliced off a bit and handed it over. “Oh, it’s wrapped in bacon,” I said, immediately more comfortable because my favorite food was now present.

Initially, I thought my steak was unnecessarily tough, especially for medium rare, but then I realized I was using a butter knife. (Again, I’m not accustomed to fine dining.) Even so, I wasn’t blown away by the New York Strip, which is probably more the fault of heightened expectation as well as the product of having filled up on appetizers early. See, a part of the go-with-what-you-know program was to get the calamari, which was delicious. It came with olive tapenade and crustini in addition to the traditional marinara sauce. My date ordered the lobster bisque, which I sampled liberally, rolling my eyes back because of its rich, creamy sweetness.

Despite being absolutely crammed full—stuffed like that fat guy in Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, the one that explodes after eating a “wafer-thin mint”—I demanded my date man up with me for a helping of crème brulee, which I learned to love when I discovered it was basically a tasty pudding topped with caramelized sugar. When our server came with the ticket, I was practically licking the bowl.

Sticking with what you know is good, but it pays to try something new. Just going to Edgar’s was a stretch for me but I’m glad I did because I’ll definitely return. (Like when Spring arrives, so I can sit on their patio.) Had I approached their menu with any boldness, I would’ve learned that “haricot verts” means green beans in French. Go figure. -- Chris Horne

A Natural Rivalry

Rivalry’s

Months ago, when Rivalry’s shut down, they took a little piece of my heart with them. It had been my only oasis in North Macon, my kind of dive, a place where I not only got wasted, but did so in the company of good people. Every so often, I’d stroll in there during daylight hours for some grub. It never failed me. Nothing gourmet, just solid eats.

Then David Poole, who I suspiciously watched like a hawk for about six or seven minutes, bought Rivalry’s, and like he had done with his Shurlington establishment, The Hole Thang, he renovated so that the finished product was a classier dive with a longer bar and more nice TVs. He brought most of the old staff back, which brought back old regulars. So, aside from the improvements, nothing much changed about Rivalry’s, at least not in a bad way. They’ve even started the live music back up.

The only thing that was missing was the food, which they were still serving, albeit on an oft-passed around sheet of notebook paper. The menu, early on, was pretty basic. No steak, which had been my favorite in the old incarnation—just burgers, wings… bar food, that sort of thing.

Talking about the new menu, David mentioned including something he called “Atomic Buffalo Turds”. Given the somewhat unconventional name, he was reluctant to call it that, though the concept has survived as “A.B.T’s”. (Basically, they’re Jalapeño Peppers stuffed with sausage and cream cheese, wrapped in bacon and served with maple syrup. Even though I don’t like peppers, it sounds good—it is, after all, wrapped in bacon.) I didn’t “go there” on this trip because I’m genuinely concerned about the safety of my officemates and other loved ones who might have to be in small, enclosed spaces with me throughout the day. Having an Atomic Buffalo Turd (or several) seems like an unnecessarily cruel way to begin the New Year, so I went with the steak because the paper is picking up the tab and I like steak.

Besides, I’ve already eaten the burger, which is incredibly well-seasoned, hand-patted and can be served with a number of interesting toppings, like sauerkraut, chili or cole slaw (in addition to normal stuff like Swiss cheese, bacon, mustard, etc). And after hearing the rants and raves about Stephen’s fabled Bourbon wings, I had a bunch of those one night. Though they have about two dozen different flavors, including chipotle and garlic parmesan, the Bourbon sauce is a clear favorite.

Anyway, so the steak. It wasn’t prepared the same way I remembered it, which may or may not be intentional, so after having tasted the improvements on some of my other favorites from Rivalry’s, I was let down by it. Not that it was bad though. It just didn’t have the same kick. Regardless, I got tater tots with it, and that made my day because I haven’t ordered Tater Tots at a place since I was a kid. Now I think I’m going to buy a bag of them from Kroger’s and watch football in my underwear, which is about the only thing I don’t feel comfortable enough to do at Rivalry’s… yet. -- Chris Horne

Hussle Your Bussel at Ruby's in a Rush

Ruby’s in a Rush

Out of Five Stars
Service: 4
Atmosphere: 2.5
Food: 3.5
BFYB: 3.5

Sometimes, Brad and I like to take a quiet little lunch, away from the hustle and bustle of the metropolitan area, to a place where we can discuss any order of business as easily as we would discuss our favorite colors or the potentially devastating impact of baseball’s Mitchell Report. Well, of course, there are few places better for that quaint meeting than Ruby’s in a Rush. In fact, I dare say it might even be better if you’re not in a rush!

Located in the beautifully designed and fresh environs of the Gateway Plaza—it still has that new building smell!—Ruby’s in a Rush doesn’t come across any differently than any other little lunch spot set inside an office building, like a newsstand with more tile and a TV. They’ve tried to make it feel more cozy with pictures of folks eating and such, but there’s little one can do with the physical space they’ve been given. Besides, the people swinging in and out of there are in a hurry, so its utilitarian spatial qualities make sense.

While the décor doesn’t invoke feelings of comfort, the way that Ruby and Gloria welcome their visitors lends the impression you’ve stepped foot in their living room. You couldn’t ask for nicer folks—sweet, accommodating and efficient. And that little touch—unlike the pale, unemotional “welcome to (insert name)” greetings you get in chain restaurants—makes a huge difference.

Though the service is the most striking aspect at Ruby’s in a Rush, it wouldn’t matter without good food. I think of Ruby’s as a sandwich shop, primarily, but this last visit, I ordered from the hot bar. Citrus-seasoned tilapia, yellow rice and black-eyed peas. The fish was so good, I had an extra piece. Brad ate the Club, which was big enough and good enough to keep him shut up for a good five minutes.

So yeah, I probably wouldn’t take my wife to Ruby’s for our 30^th Anniversary Dinner, but I’d go almost any time to pick up a quick and delicious lunch. Shoot, I might go just to say hey to Ms. Ruby and Ms.Gloria… and maybe have a bite while I’m there. -- Chris Horne