Restaurant Review - Alon’s allure

Atlanta can be a lonely city for newly arrived transplants. Street life barely exists here; We’re all in our cars, stuck in traffic and taking deep breaths to quell our road rage. This is a cliquish town. It can take awhile to discover our social epicenters.

So if you’re missing mankind and longing for an infusion of humanity, here’s one surefire suggestion: Head to Alon’s in Morningside for Saturday lunch.

Fight for a parking space with the monster-upgrade SUVs, pull open the wooden doors and join the throngs in the bakery-cum-market’s buttery glow. Kids smudge deli-case glass, pawing for chocolate-chip cookies, while their parents ponder the bread and cake selections. Well-traveled mavens with “Desperate Housewives” haircuts exchange exclamations over a cheese they remember from a trip to Spain. Acquaintances who only typically see each other at the gym converse while they wait for their sandwich orders. Two polite men deep in discussion over their careers pause to help an elderly woman up from a low bench.

And that’s the activity level in winter. The assemblage gets even more frenetic in the summer and fall, when the Morningside Farmer’s Market kicks into full swing across the street.

I witnessed the thriving culture of Alon’s on a recent weekend lunch when I stopped by with a mission: to check out the store’s new open kitchen and carryout case, in place since July.

Alon Balshan and his wife, Janine, took over the space next door that was once an outlet of Rocky’s pizzeria. With its stressed stucco walls, wrap-around case filled with gourmet goodies and the blur of busy cooks in white behind it, this end of Alon’s now emits a swankier edge than the homier side where the baked goods are displayed.

Carryout is a tricky medium to master, and few venues do it well in Atlanta. You need a chef who knows how to cater to a broad sweep of tastes, who knows how to think beyond pasta and chicken salads without going too far afield with strange concoctions.

Alon’s takeout currently hovers too comfortably in the safe zone — there are lots of offerings along the lines of black bean salad, tabbouleh, hummus, baba ghanoush and pasta salad with sun-dried tomatoes. Been there, carried that away.

I suspect a good part of the selection’s limited imagination has to do with the revolving door of chefs that has been constantly whirling since the carryout section began operation. Khain Raymond, previously of Horseradish Grill, was the first chef to come and go. Several others, including the talented Patty Roth, who recently left Luxe, have since passed through the position. The Balshans have apparently struggled to unearth the perfect person to fit their vision.

Hopefully they’ve found it in Vik Silberberg, the latest contestant to take the helm. Judging from three visits, Silberberg’s strengths lay in the kind of takeout that’s meant to be consumed at home. I picked up a lovely piece of simply prepared wild striped bass that Silberberg had cooked only halfway through so the fish wouldn’t be rubbery when reheated. Alongside the fish I warmed broccoli and cauliflower almondine and some haricot vert that had been tossed with toasted pine nuts. Both sides were decent cold but came to life hot.

Then there’s the matter of the meatballs. “I’ll take four … no, five!” I said to the woman behind the counter. I could tell they were good just by looking at them. She plunked them into a container and then spooned rich marinara over them. At home, I pulled them out of the oven and ate them straight from the pan. They’re right up there with the meatballs Star Provisions used to make for sandwiches — flecked with herbs but not too spicy, dense yet moist. I sopped all the sauce up with some of Alon’s stellar rustic wheat bread.

Which brings me to an important point: The best part about investigating the carryout selection was the opportunity it gave me to reacquaint myself with the things Alon’s has been doing beautifully all along. The robust roasted lamb sandwich tinged with rosemary; the marinated and grilled chicken sandwich swabbed with pesto; the flaky croissants and crumbly, fruit-laced muffins; the creamy banana tarts with the cookielike crust.

And speaking of cookies, I don’t command enough hyperbolic adjectives to describe either the pecan-chocolate chip or the oatmeal-raisin masterpieces they make here. Just go get one for yourself and you’ll understand. They sell the cookie dough in the refrigerator case now, by the way. I won’t buy it: I know I’d eat the whole tube raw and make myself sick.

If you come across the odd clunker now and then — a cloying, under-boozed Baba au Rhum, for instance, or a startlingly bland black-eyed pea and carrot soup — it never leaves a lasting blemish in your mind. Alon’s has officially reached the status of neighborhood treasure. I trust the bulk of the carryout foods will catch up with the magic of the breads and pastries in due time.

bill.addison@creativeloafing.com