691 14th Street NW

Atlanta, Georgia 30318

Tel. 404-996-2623

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cooks and Soldiers is a Basque inspired restaurant settled in a developing part of Atlanta. It reflects the swing towards modern and trendy places in this city and reflects a beautiful culinary culture which has made its way from across the sea to more prominent cities here in America. The food of the region is marked by the fresh seafood found on the Basque country coast, and reflected in the plethora of seafood options including delights like octopus, salmon, and mussels at Cooks and Soldiers.

Cooks and Soldiers welcomed me from the frigid cold with an ethereal warmth. My date for the evening was parking the car around the corner. We discovered later there was parking for the restaurant, but only valet.  Immediately I was greeted by a sharply dressed host with a dazzling smile. The walk to the table was almost ethereal. My eyes kept drifting upwards to the dangling light bulbs molded into perfect water droplets. The host pulled my chair out and glided me back towards the table, quietly and quickly removing the two other place settings which would not be used for the night’s meal. Before slipping away back to his post, he placed a stark card in the middle of the table. He slammed the industrial stamp he had in his other hand on the card leaving behind the night’s specials and recommendations.

It was almost overwhelming sitting in the middle of this atmosphere. Without my date I seemed almost an observer rather than a diner myself. Every table was chatting, chattering, laughing, leaning over tables and leaning back in their wooden and metal chairs. Two women to my right giggled over a chocolate dessert and wine while the table to my left was an older family, the kids grown, the parents slightly greyed, and each one focused not on the food in front of them, but rather, each other. My eyes darted around me and to the large window looking in to the kitchen: cooks behind large grills weaving in and around each other, the servers on the other side of the counter all dressed in matching denim aprons gracefully picking up orders, but also stopping to share a smile or a joke. Impossible to tell what they’re saying over the roar of the crowd and the music.

 

 

Snapping me out of my daze was the server. She was polite, kind, and professional, greeting my date with a smile and the same courtesy of pushing his chair in as he arrived. She went into an explanation of the restaurant, region while quickly and concisely detailing the menu. Recommendations were given, and we were left to ourselves. The problem with that being that instead of discussing the menu, we ended up discussing the ingredients, and the music, and the liveliness of the whole place and by the time our server came back, we had hardly glanced at our options. However, we ordered our Pinxtos: Barbakoa Vasca: a braised beef barbacoa served on toast, the Bikini: a grilled sandwich with American cheese and Jamón Ibérico, and Pez Espada: swordfish served with swiss chard. It would be a crime, after all, to dine at a Basque restaurant and not even try the seafood.

The wait for our dishes was almost imperceptible. The music kept us entertained and our server kept our cups at capacity.

Swiftly laid before us was the Barbakoa Vasca. The rich ruddy brown of the beef popped against the chalkboard tray. The crunch of the toast barely reached my ears before the Barbakoa greeted my taste buds. The braised beef was tender and slightly sweet, not stringy like most others I’ve tried. The crispiness of the bread perfectly paired with the meat which simply melted the instant you tasted it. There was a light aioli smeared across the bread and bright pickled peppers dashed across the top. The peppers were truly the surprise of the dish as they added a subtle distinction of vinegar to the sweetness of the beef. These flavors contrasted, but complemented and together, may have been the best five bites of any meal I’ve ever had.

Next came the Bikini. It was cut in triangles just the way Mom used to make. The bread was a golden glimmer against the white dish. The creaminess of the cheese immediately made my eyes widen. Unfortunately, after the initial bite, that was about it. The fame of the Bikini had been sung across every internet review and foodie alike, but in the end, I was almost disappointed. These flavors were less developed and the Jamón Ibérico and black truffles were lost in the abundance of cheese. It was delicious regardless, but felt almost too safe in what I had thus far considered more of a food adventure.

The last of the Pinxtos was the swordfish. It was plated beautifully with colors of sweet orange and electric green swirled together. The sear of the fish had turned the edges a deep brown while keeping the fish itself moist. The flavor was solid. There was no overwhelming taste of the sea to the fish and it was seasoned in a fashion that let the swordfish truly shine. The swiss chard was heartier than expected and when combined with a bite of the fish, created and subtle, but delicious experience.

 

 

We finished the dishes quickly and in a moment of weakness, chose to indulge.

The server slid the small, perfectly round cake onto our table. Gateau Basque. Sprinkled across the top was a dusting of powdered sugar which starkly contrasted against the chalkboard platter. We split the circle exactly in half and gazed in at the layers of creamy honeycomb toffee filling and drunken cherry. Cheers. Immediately a sense of warmth and comfort spread over me and all the tension in my shoulders disappeared. It was one of those bites where the food overtakes your emotions and the flavors become a feeling, not just a taste. My date looked up at me. “This tastes like what a blanket feels like.” We tried the candied orange that came as a garnish to the dish. The orange snapped as we broke it in two. The flavor was surprisingly nostalgic. It was candy. Delicious candy. Candy given to you by older relatives that’s wrapped in cellophane and is questionable in origin. Bright orange candy flavor.

 

 

We watched the chalkboard serving tray disappear and shortly left the restaurant in a daze. We couldn’t stop laughing or talking about the food. The conversation came in half sentences, “The barbacoa! So surprising! What that woman said! Just so good!” The food hadn’t filled us, but I suspect that wasn’t the intention of it to begin with. A meal doesn’t have to cause you to walk out, leaning forward, your belly bursting with your bites.  A meal is so much more. It is the conversation and the moments that come from eating surrounded by the people and places unique only to you and your experience. That, an attribute so difficult to serve, is exactly what we were given that night at Cooks and Soldiers. So to you, my recommendation is this: come to this beautiful establishment, but not to get full. Come here for the flavors which will feed your mind as much as they will your stomach. Come for service which surpasses that of the everyday. Come here to slow down. To float in the giddiness of conversation and good company and new experiences. To not simply eat, but dine.