Holeman & Finch — Buckhead
Rating: 4 of 5 stars
Food: small plates and cocktails
Service: sometimes overwhelmed, but otherwise professional and enthusiastic
Best dishes: lamb rack, short rib, pickles, any cocktail on the menu
Vegetarian selections: quite a few, and the list is growing
Price range: $$-$$$
Credit cards: Visa, Mastercard, American Express and Discover
Hours: 5 p.m.-midnight Mondays-Wednesdays, 5 p.m.-2 a.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 11:30 a.m.-5 p.m. Sundays
Children: not recommended
Parking: complimentary valet
Reservations: no
Wheelchair access: yes
Smoking: no
Noise level: moderate to loud
Patio: no
Takeout: yes
Address, phone: 2277 Peachtree Road NW, Atlanta, 404-948-1175
Website: www.holeman-finch.com
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Let’s take a trip through time, back to early 2008. Words like “gastropub” and “offal” were not yet part of the casual Atlanta diner’s regular lexicon. There hadn’t been any casualties of the “burger war,” and the person making your drink was likely still a bartender, not yet a “mixologist.”
Back in the present, nearly all of those overused catchphrases elicit groans from critics and foodies alike. And if any single restaurant is responsible for igniting the furor that drove those fads over the proverbial shark tank, it would have to be Holeman & Finch Public House. Granted, it wasn’t the first to do any of those things in town, but it is undeniable that this little pub did more to drive the fads of craft cocktails, house-made charcuterie, and the gastropub moniker than anyone else in Atlanta.
Opened in the spring of ’08 by Linton and Gina Hopkins, along with now legendary mixologists Greg Best, Regan Smith and Andy Minchow, Holeman & Finch instantly became a food-media darling and trendsetter for the Atlanta dining scene. If Hopkins’ flagship Restaurant Eugene was refined white-tablecloth, then Holeman & Finch was a playground for industry types and adventurous eaters to expand their horizons and unwind.
Now, six years later, Holeman & Finch has seen its fair share of change, and I wonder: Is it still the powerhouse that it once was?
Over the past year, many key players have moved on. Best and Smith departed last fall, and Minchow — who recently opened his own spot, Ration & Dram, in Kirkwood — left the year before that. And just last month, Hopkins & Co. quietly overhauled the menu, adding a slew of new dishes and reworked old ones.
Sara Justice, most recently from the famous PDT in Manhattan, took over the unenviable position of running the bar in February. Since then, the cocktail program evolved slowly, if not trepidatiously. However, in the past few months, we’ve seen Justice come out of her shell, growing more and more adventurous.
I’ll order at least one daytripper ($13) per visit as long as Justice continues to mix the dangerously easy to drink blend of Georgia sour mash, apple brandy and huckleberry syrup. The hints of lemon and absinthe cut with just enough acidity to invigorate each taste, making this perfect for sipping on a hot day. For a stiff drink after a long day, I’ll go straight for the more booze-forward improved cocktail ($12), a stout glass of 114 proof Old Grand-Dad with demerara, bitters, and a hint of absinthe.
Though Hopkins designed the framework for most of the new dishes, he encourages a collaborative approach, and chef de cuisine Jason Paolini and his team remain very much part of the creative process.
Yes, the infamous burger ($12) is still here and still great, and that’s the last time I’ll be mentioning it.
I have a moment of panic when I realize that my favorite section of the old menu — the “parts” — is nowhere to be found. I quickly relax as I discover a separate and expanded parts menu, complete with a medieval-looking drawing of a chimera pointing out just where on the “beast” each dish comes from.
Many old favorites remain unmolested on the new “Whole Beast Program,” like the ever-so-delicious veal brains with black butter ($9) and the bone marrow ($11). But the new additions to the offal are just as worthy of consideration as well.
I can’t resist making my friends cringe, so I start with something I never thought I’d say — “Yes, I’ll have the lamb testicles” ($8). Despite my bravado, I brace myself for some unholy texture that will leave me rudely gagging at the table. But these fried discs pack a wonderfully meaty flavor and are no less pleasant on the tongue than a sweetbread.
Next begins a rapid-fire tour of the remaining newcomers. Runny goose egg yolk makes for a perfect dip for thin slices of crispy beef tongue ($11), succulent hunks of blackened grouper cheeks ($9) disappear in a flurry of dueling forks, and a hearty, belly-warming bowl of slowly braised oxtail and leeks ($8) merits a second order. We snack on crunchy bites of chicken crackling ($5) between plates. Things are right in the world.
Hopkins has made quite a few noteworthy additions beyond the parts menu as well. The simple, yet perfect butter beans ($7), with a hearty portion of tender ham hock, are just too good to pass up. Surprisingly delicate slices of raw red snapper ($5) are another big hit, leaving us shamelessly slurping from the bowl, lest we waste a drop of the magical warm mushroom broth. And Hopkins’ newfound affection for vegan eating — he and his wife, Gina, recently converted to an all-vegan diet — shines through in dishes like the roasted shiitake mushrooms ($6), which soak in that same broth before cooking, ratcheting up the umami to impressive levels.
Some things at Holeman & Finch have not changed. During prime hours, the 60-seat, no-reservations room packs in quickly. Don’t arrive at 8 p.m. and get all huffy when you have more than an hour’s wait. Plan for a long wait and enjoy sipping on some of Justice’s concoctions until your table comes up — it has always been, and remains, worth waiting for.
Over numerous recent visits, I fail to find a single disappointment with the new additions to the menu at Holeman & Finch. Hopkins struck the perfect balance between rejuvenation and fixing what wasn’t broken. I’m happy to report that Holeman & Finch remains at the top of its game, and I look forward to many more long, slightly hazy nights treating myself to whatever Linton & Co. dream up to serve me next.
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