I originally planned to go to a French crepes restaurant tucked down an obscure unlit alley. I’m a sucker for eclectic little restaurants that look atmospheric but seem out of place. However, I struggle with menus full of wheat. Instead I headed over to Thaicoon, which turned out to be a very good choice.
I sat at the bar and chatted with the sushi chefs and other patrons who were dining alone. One lady was an accountant from New York who’d retired to Georgia. She was having difficulty adapting her New York manner to the southern way of doing things. California may have been a better choice, she mused. I have a hard time conversing with people who talk in a drawl and chew on a piece of straw at the same time… and people who put their feet up on a table.
I looked around the restaurant for people with their feet on the table. When I saw none I perused the menu for a while. There were a lot of unique things that I’d never seen before.
I couldn’t quite get the theory behind pizza sushi. One lady gave me a look of death when I’d had the audacity to utter such a blasphemous statement. I have enough problems with the concept of putting carrots into sushi (like Safeway)… smothering fish and rice with tomato sauce adds a whole new layer of that’s-not-right for me. However, it was a popular item and I watched the chefs make it time and time again.
My choice for the evening was the deluxe sushi plate… not too experimental. There was a resounding good choice from the other friendly sorts sitting at the bar. I have to say, the one thing that has always impressed me about the south is the friendly nature of the people who live there.
