Y'all know most sequels never lives up to the original. Case in point... This beer ball trilogy. The original at the Prado is good but part deux in North Cackalacka is like preschool caca and now, the 3rd (turd) is just a case study in Shitonomy.
This place is like a red headed stepchild... Now, I know how Malachi feels. No love... If you're gonna screw me, use a glove at least. And lube, for God's sake... I'm fragile. Somehow, I'm sure there's enough dressing to go around here to toss your salad.
Lobster Bisque - Looked more like a cup of latte... Thin, watery and flavorless. Tiny pieces of lobster that could double for tilapia. No hint of sherry or herbs and spices. I got robstered.
Red Beet Salad - When I saw this thing I wanted to beet my meat in it to give it a little more volume. Tiny bowl of bib lettuce, cubed red beets, walnuts, onions and goat cheez... While it was fresh, the portion was absurd. Rabbit droppings.
Braised Bratwurst - One single wiener... Hanging a little to the left. What's a girl to do? Cut that shit up! But I got sandbagged... That dusty old schlong broke apart into grainy chunks when you try to slice it. Homemade kraut was cabbage slaw and French bread was a hoagie roll. The grain mustard kinda saved it... Not.
Granny Serrano Pizza - A ra-tarded deformed circular pita bread with caramelized Granny Smiths, Serrano ham and sweet onions. Zero char, whiter than the driven snow... didn't know if I should snort it or shovel it, it was like something you can pump out from an Easy Bake oven.
While these things were edible in a dearth kinda way, the entire menu is just so watered down and lack any creativity from the original. Space is monotonous and the staff have the personality of a fruit rollup... All corporate. Even their brews tastes pre-measured and factory made. Churn 'em and burn 'em.
Drip
Howell Mill & Marietta St
Atlanta, GA 30318
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