The Red & Green Steakhouse5979 Buford Hwy NESuite B1Atlanta GA 30340Phone: (678) 710-0888Fax: (678) 710-0555Atlanta Foodies contributor Brian White recently dined at the The Red & Green Steakhouse. Here is his review.
When it comes to dining in Atlanta, your options tend to be as broad as your appetite, and the likelihood of poor service diminishes nearly to zero. Sadly that means most restaurants have to have a unique flavor and incredible service just to meet the minimum criteria, but so many go so far beyond that, it isn't tough to set the bar right there. The Red & Green Steakhouse, though a bit out in the suburbs, has earned such a reputation for excellence; it was well worth the short drive to find what all the fuss might be about.
Unannounced, I took my editor out to dinner. I figured if it was a success, we could both write it up and I could be brilliant for the find. If it was a failure, I could pretend it was a fluke. No failure to be found here: this place reeks success from the second you walk in the door, and it made me look as good as I'd hoped.
Even though it was a Friday evening, we were almost immediately shown to a table and given instructions for what was to follow. We exchanged work-related pleasantries and headed for the salad bar, where the difference in our tastes could not have been more evident. I went for the olives, while he delved into more unusual salads than I was aware a beef-centric restaurant was willing to offer.
Back at the table, pleased with my choice, he bought a bottle of dry white wine (not my choice for a steakhouse, but upon ordering the bottle he decided he was picking up the tab, so I would have been crazy to decline).
If you've never been to a Brazilian Steakhouse, then you might not get the titular reference to "red and green." Many such places, especially traditional ones, will give you a card to place on your table. One side is green, as in "go," and the other is red as in "stop." So if you've had quite enough of the gauchos wandering around and offering you just a tad more meat, simply flip your green card to red, and they'll know you're finished… you can change your mind, of course - they don't mind that, but the power is still in your hands either way.
The lamb, garlic steak and pork ribs are exactly the sort of thing that can't be beat. The chicken hearts were more my boss's speed, but not to be out done, I gladly asked for one myself. The gentleman offered me a second one with a straight face, which I politely declined. If you've never had chicken heart, they aren't bad, but I have to wonder if they're more the sort of thing a boss orders to make sure he keeps you in your place.
By the time we got around to dessert, we were both stuffed beyond capacity, and it was a shame because I already knew I wasn't picking up the tab, so figured it would be a great way to taste the Chocolate Mousse Cake without paying for it. Instead we opted for coffee and finally had a chance to take in our surroundings.
The Red & Green Steakhouse is unassuming from the outside, but once you're in, you're surely sold. The ceilings are easily twenty feet, with flawless woodwork throughout, and a seating space sufficient to make a weekday meal seem private, and a busy Friday night nothing more than ordinary. The high ceilings really dissipate sound, so even though there was a group of high school students close enough to throw bread at, we could still enjoy our (presumably tax-deductible) dinner just the same.
I know our bill would have been around $60 for an exceptional dinner of all the best food we could have possibly stuffed ourselves with, but once that bottle of wine was ordered, the tab was off-limits to me, and a good thing, because if it wasn't, my boss would have quickly realized the reason I asked him out to dinner in the first place was to ask for a pay raise.
The Red & Green Steakhouse is located off Buford Highway Northeast in Atlanta, Georgia. Call 678-710-0888 for reservations or check them out on Google, Yelp, City Search or any of the other sites that are proud to list them.
Reviewed by Brian White.