Holeman & Finch Public House in Atlanta, Georgia: Review

My first experience was, um, inauspicious. In short, it was a victim of its own hype, but let me give some details. First, we arrived at dinner time for, well, dinner. It was crowded, as we expected. We lined up at the host station looking for the host and his all powerful wait list as seemed to be logical.

It wasn't until several of us queued up, bewildered looks on our faces that a kindly server took pity on us and informed the group that, no there was no host and therefore no list. Line up and wait for the next seat to be available.

We don't mind waiting, but we do mind not knowing what arcane kabuki is involved in trying to get a seat. We lined up as dutiful soldiers. We sent scouts to bring back provisions i.e., booze for the rest of us. I, myself, had the famed (or infamous) Southern Cola whose recipe reads thusly:

Amaro Cio Ciaro, Coca-Cola and a housemade ice cube of fresh squeezed lime juice.

And it was as good as advertised. I'm not sure that drinking it standing butts to nuts with ten of my closest strangers next to a glass cube of charcuterie made it taste better or worse, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. (Though I speak blasphemy in this one soda town, I'd love to see what Greg Best would do with a case of Mountain Dew.)

Eventually we elbowed our way into some seating and ordered away. Crunchy Gentleman, deviled eggs, bacon, eggs and johnny cake, scallops with corn, crawdad beignets, pork belly with grits, catfish fingers, the sliced hamachi, the pimento cheese and, Holy Jesus appearing in a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, I can't remember what else.

I only remembered the above because I took pictures of them. What I do remember was that the food was....fine. In fact, it was small random things that really did it for me. One of the three flavors of deviled eggs. But no one dish, no entire dish, really slapped my mama and kicked me in the ass. In fact, the hamachi was downright disappointing for $14.

Back to my original point, I think that by the time we'd arrived, Holeman & Finch had been over-hyped which I tried not to hold against the restaurant itself. I mean, the space itself is very intriguing. The service was good. My drink really deserved its spot in GQ Magazine's "Top 20 Drinks in America." But could it be that the Emperor was butt-ass naked?

Holeman & Finch take two. I was talked into coming here with a group of my friends. It was 10pm. It was a school night. They were waiting on burgers and the burger kabuki was much more obvious this time around. "You better order one before they run out!" the crowd helpfully implores. And indeed, they do run out quickly...to the sound of sirens and a bullhorn.

So yes, I had the burger. Yes, it was good. I actually likened it to, well, a double from In-n-Out Burger and since I'd just had one in California the week before, I felt that was a legitimate comparison. Some might view this as a negative comparison and, considering Holeman & Finch's burger costs double what an In-n-Out burger costs that might be true. However, it's still way cheaper than flying to California, so I'd say the comparison is meant as a compliment.

Anyway, I had a much better time the second time around sans the hype, the expectations, and, well, the hunger pangs from needing to eat a proper dinner. I think, to be quite honest, the second experience is more in keeping with the spirit of what this "little bar that could's" intent is.