Restaurant Review - Move over, beignets

Claudia Nesbit brings a meatier, must-try sensibility to overlooked Huey’s

“Is this your first visit here since the ... transformation?” inquires Scot Rittenbaum, searching for the appropriate word to encapsulate the unexpected changes he’s initiated at his restaurant, Huey’s.

Yes, we all nod, it is our first visit. And all of us at the table are more than impressed. We’re floored.

You know Huey’s. It’s the funky beignet place next to R. Thomas’ on that schizophrenic stretch of Peachtree where Buckhead and Midtown begin to amalgamate. Like me, you’ve probably driven past it scores of times but never actually thought to stop in. Someday maybe, you’ve thought. Perhaps when the mood for fried dough or late-night jazz strikes.

Well, forget what you know. The low-budget, Big Easy chow that was served here for 20 years? Gone. (Except for the beignets.) In its place is a concise but astonishingly solid New American menu, executed by one of Atlanta’s up-and-coming chefs whose talent in now more evident than ever before.

That would be Claudia Nesbit, last seen in the Stove Works complex at Virginia’s, which closed suddenly late last year. Nesbit spent four years in Bacchanalia’s kitchen, and though she’s clearly developed her own POV, it’s evident her time there was well spent.

Just take a few bites of her crab fritter and you’ll see what I mean. A welcome adaptation of Bacchanalia’s signature dish, the handsome, panko-crusted lump goes from crunchy to creamy in your mouth in nanoseconds. Swab the next forkful through a splash of gentle Thai chili sauce and new layers of sweet, sour and tangy heat bloom on the tongue. Lastly, fish out an orange or grapefruit segment from the sauce. It invigorates like a chilled glass of juice after a sticky summer night’s sleep. That’s what I call a successful composition.

Now, I won’t candy-coat the situation: It is a little disorienting to be enjoying such accomplished food in these dubious surroundings. The inside dining room glows an almost macabre perpetual twilight. Everyone who walks through the door shuffles hastily to the patio, which is pleasant but a bit noisy from the Peachtree traffic. And the servers, though wonderfully earnest, still seem to be finding their footing as they adjust to the protocol of finer dining.

All that seems less important as you tuck into Nesbit’s appetizers. Her risotto croquette, a bookend to the crab fritter, is another sensuous globe encased in panko. Carnaroli rice melds with Saint Andre cheese and a generous scattering of mushrooms. She adds just a suspicion of truffle oil, a knowing choice; any more of that pungent, misused garnish would throw the balance out of whack.

It’s not often a dish takes me by surprise, but that’s just what a plate of prosciutto and melon did. Most restaurants opt to pair the ham with cantaloupe or honeydew, but Nesbit makes the bolder choice to go with watermelon. Though not seedless, the watermelon’s lush crispness lends added dimension to the sweet and salty pairing, while a vanilla bean oil smoothes the flavors with sumptuous warmth.

Salads are not quite in the same league. Grilled shrimp salad is the standout choice, served on satiny leaves of butter lettuce and sparked with a nimble lemon-thyme vinaigrette. Mild buffalo mozzarella in the caprese salad weeps its milky essence so openly, it almost falls apart on the fork, but the cottony tomatoes underneath require too much sawing with a knife. Save this salad for a couple of months down the road when tomatoes will be at their peak.

The kitchen was out of goat cheese the night I ordered the warm spinach salad, and it needed the cheese: The cloying sherry bacon vinaigrette required an earthy complement to quell its sweetness.

Pork tenderloin suffers a similar trial with its fruity blackberry-sage sauce, which needs more dusky sage to tame the blackberry. But the pork is rosy and tender, and long strips of browned okra without a trace of the much maligned gummy texture adds intriguing contrast.

Nesbit likes to employ sly Southern touches to her food — like the okra with the pork or the watermelon with the prosciutto, or the pancetta bacon tossed with haricot verts served underneath a nicely grilled filet mignon. I love her gulf shrimp risotto, a lusty bowl of soupy rice gorgeously flecked with herbs. She has the chutzpah to break from the no-cheese-with-seafood rule of Italian cooking by adding Grana Padano cheese in generous amounts. It works. In fact, the dish takes on the comfy characteristics of shrimp and grits, making it an unanticipated but deeply satisfying union of American and Italian sensibilities.

Come dessert time, the server attempts to seduce you with a warm chocolate cake, baked to order. I’m personally bored with that ubiquitous offering, but so much of the food has exceeded expectation that we decide to give it a whirl. The cake takes about 15 minutes to bake, so, in the interim, I suggest the cheese plate listed in the appetizer section. The cheeses, including Spanish manchego and Point Reyes blue, are easygoing and pique the sweet tooth with their accompanying assortment of preserves.

The chocolate cake is snarfed down by my tablemates in seconds. I admit it’s admirable, though I prefer to lavish attention on strawberry shortcake, made with a firm yet flaky biscuit that soaks up the berry juices and still holds its own.

And those beignets? Not bad. They’re startlingly ungreasy. But they certainly aren’t as righteous as the ones at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans.

(By the way, somebody here really knows how to make whipped cream. They serve it in massive scoops, and it’s the ideal consistency between fluffy and dense. And it’s not too sweet. Well done.)

OK, here’s the grand prize question: Exactly how did a rising star chef like Nesbit end up in a joint like Huey’s?

“I knew I needed to create a craving for great food,” explains Rittenbaum. “So I put out the word, and then I heard from Claudia. I thought, ‘Oh, she’ll never want to work here!’ But we got along very well. So we decided to roll the dice and just go for it.”

There you have it. Rittenbaum makes a point of stopping by each table to thank customers for coming in and giving the new concept a chance. During one visit, he mentions that, in light of the new direction, he’s considering renaming the restaurant or giving the space a makeover.

Such flourishes couldn’t hurt. But really, the most important leap has already been made. That nebulous someday when you’ve been meaning to give Huey’s a shot? It has most definitely arrived.

bill.addison@creativeloafing.com