Four years in Atlanta taught me a lot. I learned that I can never again live in a city where a car is a necessity and that humidity is no friend of mine. I also learned that life outside of NYC can be way restorative. There’s less hype, in a good way. Lines are shorter, prices are lower, and strangers almost never curse you out for no apparent reason (this happened to me on the subway yesterday…twice).
I reflected on these lessons during my last moments in Atlanta, most of which were spent eating. Here’s one final recap of my eats in the city that fed me right for four years.
First, a stop at Krog Street Market. A confession: I’ve only ever tried Yalla at Krog, despite the market’s diverse offerings including Mexican, sushi, and bbq, among others. Alas, Yalla’s freakishly delicious Mediterranean / Middle Eastern fare had me hooked since day one. So sue me. My last-ever bowl from Yalla was heavily lined with thick hummus and labne, topped with Israeli salad and pickles, and finished off with 5 crispy-as-can-be falafel balls + a healthy drizzle of tahini. I also added fried eggplant, you know, for good measure.
Later in the week, I ditched Yalla’s fast-casual vibes for a luxe evening at St. Cecilia, where I celebrated my graduation with all things fancy: think prosecco, oysters, and handmade pasta.
Classy affair that it was, the oysters arrived on ice jewels and the just-baked bread with salt and pepper ricotta…
We also sampled artichoke-stuffed tortellini for the table, before moving on to our mains. I opted for the octopus (as I almost always do when it’s on any menu, anywhere, ever), which came pesto-slathered and with a hearty three-bean side salad. Also, roasted rainbow carrots. Neither pictured, both devoured.
My last 48 hours weren’t all cocktails and congratulations, though. I spent a sweaty morning hauling boxes to FedEx, driving donations to Goodwill, and disassembling furniture. As you might imagine, my trip to the dump, where my father and I discarded a broken dining table amidst days-old Chinese takeout containers, just missed the blog-worthy cut. Instead, I’ll show you my post-moveout refuel:
One last biscuit for the road, paired with cranberry-apple butter, an egg white / cheddar / mushroom / spinach omelette + fruit salad from Atlanta brunch institution, The Flying Biscuit. Solid sustenance for the (not so) long journey home.
And while I can’t say I’ll miss my tumultuous four-year relationship with Delta Airlines, the place it transported me to will forever be cherished.
Thanks for the memories, Atlanta.