Evening Edge

Greg Best, Andy Minchow and Regan Smith came to town with the circus caravan that was the opening team for Emeril's Atlanta. The three barkeeps stayed for a while and moved on. Minchow gained a following at Repast and then Posh, where he reconnected with Smith. Best took up residence behind the small bar at Restaurant Eugene, where his penchant for homemade tinctures, Czech digestifs and curry earned him the title of the city's most creative mixologist.

The three friends dreamed of opening a little public house together in the Old Fourth Ward. When I asked Best about their original concept, he was pretty adamant about it being a place that served great alcohol and interesting, affordable food in an ecumenical setting. A public house, in his estimation, was a church of eats and drinks open to all, regardless of social class and devoid of such dining rigmarole as reservations.

Becky Stein/For the AJC (ENLARGE)

Holeman & Finch's menu makes a connection between English pub fare and the agrarian South. John Kessler says the neighbor of Restaurant Eugene has a spirit 'so fresh and vital that I hate to attach a label, but I think it is without question Atlanta's first great gastropub.'

Where are they? Map and information about Holeman & Finch and other Atlanta gastropubs. John Kessler writes food features and a column about food and more for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution E-mail John Kessler Recent Kessler columns Your fool-proof checklist for Thanksgiving  Hours of low-temperature cooking yield tender, juicy meat  Different things to sample on my new dining menu         More John Kessler Related: John Kessler's blog: Food & More John Kessler's recipes Meridith Ford Goldman's Table Talk Jeanne Besser's Feeding Frenzy Evening Edge Atlanta Restaurant reviews and search Recipes from Atlanta restaurants Favorite Atlanta recipes

Opportunity presented itself closer to work for Best, and in partnership with Linton and Gina Hopkins of Restaurant Eugene, they opened Holeman & Finch Public House next door.

Chef Hopkins crafted a tone poem of a menu that makes a connection between English pub fare and the agrarian South with manifest creativity but few concessions to fashion. Start with one of Best's bittersweet libations, and then it's a seamless move from Gentleman's Relish (sharp anchovy butter) on toast to the delicious goo that is hot souse, from pickled eggs to deviled eggs to grilled sausages to fried okra.

The food and drink go down in a fever dream of yumminess and then sit like a mad sow in your stomach if you overdo it. It is heavy, without any apology.

And, to me, it is so revelatory that it seems to signal a change in what restaurants today strive to achieve. The spirit of Holeman & Finch seems so fresh and vital that I hate to attach a label, but I think it is without question Atlanta's first great gastropub.

When I first started hearing about London's gastropubs in the early 1990s, the story went something like this: Young, talented chef moves into a sagging corner pub and starts whipping up great plates to go with those pints of stout and ale.

So a gastropub is just a bar that serves lamb curry rather than fish and chips to go with beer?

Partly, but as the trend started to catch on, certain features of the dining experience became prominent. Communal tables, plates to share, a renewed interest in the origins of certain British dishes, an effort to rethink typical bar fare.

So, a little of the small plates/tapas thing worked into the big picture?

Yes, but there was still something profoundly different at work. The Los Angeles Times has an interesting take. A capsule review of a California gastropub in that paper states it is "an upscale community center full of friends waiting to be met and gourmet dishes to be shared."

In other words, it's all about mood.

My aha moment at Holeman & Finch came with the recognition of a certain feeling. This feeling: Just arriving in a new city on a business trip, walking into a grungy local bar and ordering a beer and a bacon cheeseburger. Or a basket of fish and chips! Not caring that I'm embarking on a fat-and-calorie orgy or that the fish had gone right from a freezer bag into a vat of well-used oil. I remember doing just that at a bar in Minneapolis, watching the diverse crowd and feeling totally satisfied.

Add thoughtful food to the equation, subtract the dank corners and table under-gum, and you have the gastropub.

There are others around town. Tap in Midtown does it with more self-consciousness than flat-out yumminess. The Glenwood in East Atlanta does it in a true smoke-filled bar. (Chef Ryan Stewart makes everything from western North Carolina barbecue to tête de veau.)

Many more are on the way. The guys at Decatur's great Brick Store Pub will offer a gastro concept in a prominent retail space around the corner from their bar on East Ponce de Leon Avenue. Meanwhile, Seeger's alums Nick Rutherford and Molly Gunn will open the Porter Beer Bar in the heart of Little Five Points.

"It's a gastropub," says Gunn, who admits that she's avoiding the coinage in the name. She doesn't want to jump on a trend but rather open a come-one/come-all beer joint with really good food. It's an exciting movement and still too early for labels.