Every night on a street called Peachtree in Buckhead, Atlanta, something strange happens. At Holeman and Finch Public House exactly 24 burgers are prepared and served on a first-come-first-served basis. The idea is that such a perfect burger takes time and is impossible to create in mass. How they arrived at 24 is anyone’s guess, but why not? Yet, despite their insistence on limiting burgers, there is a loophole. It’s called Sunday Brunch.
Deep in the recesses of my To-Do Lists, I maintain a list of places I want to eat if I find myself in a particular city. Of course, the list doesn’t get much play, but when I found myself in Atlanta for the Final Four, I whipped out the list and found some delights I had only dreamed of. The first place I went to was the Edgewood Corner Tavern. I didn’t go because of some suggestion that they might have good food, I was there for one thing only.
Recently, a jury in Georgia had a most interesting case. According the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, some vegans were protesting outside of a HoneyBaked Ham store. A poorly trained undercover police officer was taking pictures of the protest and the vegans noticed him. They wrote down his license plate number. The officer was worried since it was his own car and could be linked back to his home, so he tried to get the paper with his license plate number back.