into the fryer.

Just checking in to point out a few things about Atlanta that I miss.

Direct access to New Orleans cooking. The line-up has always been slowly changing, like band members in a band that you like but don't care about the individual personalities in other than the singer (Gipsy Kings spring to mind), but it seems that for decades now, Atlanta has had a modest handful of reasonably authentic Cajun outposts dotting its landscape.

A newish one is AJ's Famous Seafood and Po Boys, located right around the corner from my bunker. They don't have a huge menu, but what they do do, they do right: fresh oysters, fried seafood, red beans and rice, po boys, and muffalettas. Dennis picked up some take-out from AJ's on Friday night for a couple of the Robinson girls, and pictured above is his Godzilla vs. The Fried Tentacle-looking soft-shell crab platter with hush puppies, cole slaw, and fries (the only weak point, they could've been a bit crisper). I had one of these about three weeks ago with red beans and rice instead of fries and it was dee-licious.

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Another thing i miss is Buford Highway. Yesterday we went to the 24-hour Mexican diner El Rey del Taco, and it was like being on vacation for a couple of hours. I didn't bring my camera, but a couple of "real bloggers" have already snapped some visuals for you to peep on (here's Off The Broiler's visit). Very good real Mexican tacos, and since we sat at the counter, an unusually good view of fresh tortillas being made by hand. That's right, to order: you order a taco, she presses a tortilla out and slaps it on the grill.

I grabbed 3 tacos: lengua (yes, tongue), al pastor (spit-roasted pork and beef), and suadero, which the menu described as "flat meat". The suadero was also the best of the three, sauteed in some kind of red-orange sauce that set it apart from the drier and generally more straight-up lengua and al pastor presentations, which just came scattered with cilantro and onions. Although none of this relative dryness really mattered for long: the tacos came with a pile of cut limes and two salsas (one green, one red) for customizing your lubrication (and heat) levels.

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And finally, the other thing I miss about Atlanta? Everyone has a pool table in their basement, and most of them are in much much better condition than the one I played on Friday night (this house used to contain 9 cats and 3 dogs). Luckily the cat hair didn't seem to slow things down too much, neither did the sombrero. This is a picture of me winning 20 bucks.