In anticipation of the journey I took to the web to chart my culinary course. I found a couple of good resources, one from the CrossFit Midtown box, the other from a listing on Yelp of Atlanta’s Paleo restaurants. For the most part, these restaurants are outside the range I wanted to travel, as I wanted to walk and leave the rental car safely ensconced in the hotel parking lot. But I found two options that looked promising.
One was a restaurant about 2.3 miles away, if Yelp, Google Maps, and my phone’s GPS are to be believed. With the way my coworker and I have scheduled the staffing of our booth at this convention, it would be doable to walk that distance, eat lunch, and walk back. So I set out under a cloudy sky, convincing myself that I could make the walk before the rains came. As it turns out, I was sorely mistaken. At a little past the one mile mark a few sprinkles began to fall. Nothing I can’t handle, I thought, and pressed on in the hope that the drops would stop. Nay, verily, and forsooth, they did not. By somewhere between a mile and a half and a mile and three quarters, the sprinkle had worked its way up to a full blown downpour. At this point I was somewhere around two thirds or so of the way to my destination. I also was in an area which, while not necessarily the bad side of town, was definitely a step or two outside my comfort zone. So I turned back, mostly retracing my steps through the now steady rain (which, of course, ended when I got within a couple of blocks of the hotel). I sloshed my way to the Moe’s in the food court adjacent to the hotel, focused on the “grass fed” sign and ignored what I know about the non paleo treatment that meat gets before it is served, ordered myself the steak Earmuffs, and rested my now blistered feet while chowing down.
Surely, today’s lunch would be much less of an exercise in frustration. A Paleo-friendly food truck listed on its website calendar that it would be at Coca-Cola. I took this to mean that it would be set up near the World of Coca-Cola, which is just a few blocks downhill from my hotel. Apparently, this is *not* what it meant. I took my still sore feet on this little hike, circled the entire World of Coke property with no sign of said food truck, and I found myself mingling with a throng of 6 & 7 year olds on a field trip in the sweltering heat of the Atlanta summer as I climbed the hill back to Peachtree and–you guessed it–my food court Moe’s.
Just to continue my pattern of trying to go to one restaurant and ending up at Moe’s, I decided to check out the Brazilian steakhouse a couple of blocks away from the hotel. It was on the way to this same convention when it was held in Tampa in 2011 that I had my first and so far only Brazilian steakhouse experience, and a restaurant that just brings out big slabs of meat and slices them onto your plate is about as paleo (or at least primal, depending on what they prepare their meat in) as you can get. Unfortunately, sticker shock set in and I opted not to spend nearly 50 bucks on the company card for dinner for one. So, twas back to Moe’s, where by now I ought to be on a first name basis with the staff.