In Irish Bred Pub's kitchen, cooks simmer beef in Guinness and brown gravy and stuff shepherd's pies with savory meat. Patrons can dig into Irish favorites or venture beyond the Emerald Isle to taste the cajun flavors of chicken and sausage jambalaya and shrimp sautéed in cajun seasoning. On Mondays and Wednesdays, visitors belt out karaoke favorites, while on Tuesdays and Thursdays they take on trivia challenges to recall obscure facts, such as the name of America's current president.
To call The Body Shop a mere skin and body care store is to miss half of what makes it special. Late founder Dame Anita Roddick was a pioneer for ethical business practices; upon opening her first store in Brighton, England, in 1976, she developed company values such as "Defend human rights" and "Protect our planet." She somehow balanced principles and profit, partnering in global campaigns with UNICEF, Greenpeace, Amnesty International, and the United Nations, all while expanding her brand into 2,500 locations in 60 international markets. After her death in 2007, then-British Prime Minister Gordon Brown said, “She campaigned for green issues for many years before it became fashionable to do so and inspired millions to the cause by bringing sustainable products to a mass market. . . . She was an inspiration.”
Indeed, the Body Shop exhibits an eco-friendliness that's hard to come by in a company of its size. Its products have been fair-trade since 1987, and its Against Animal Testing movement led to a UK-wide ban of animal testing of cosmetics. The products are made from ingredients harvested from around the world: shea butter from Ghana goes into body scrubs and butters, and Indian artisans craft wooden massagers and tote bags that are screenprinted by hand. But all that isn't to say the company's production practices overshadow its final products. Skincare treatments such as the Blue Corn 3-in-1 deep-cleansing scrub mask often appear in Allure, Marie Claire, and other national publications.
The Ultimate Bar & Grill’s chefs break free from the shackles of pub-grub conventions with a revamped menu of bar starters and full-grown entrees. Platter pamperers steep 24 wings in a sauna of spices, such as lemon pepper and sweet chili ($17.99), before massaging rémoulade and marinara into fried green tomatoes ($6.99). Cloak Vienna beef dogs in an ensemble of Chicago-style duds, including mustard, relish, veggies, celery salt, and Prohibition-era fedoras ($6.99). Twinkle-toed clusters of snow crab legs quickstep through Cajun seasonings ($19.99), and chicken ($13.99), steak ($14.99), or shrimp ($15.99) cascade across the teriyaki stir-fry's mound of peppers, onions, and garlic. Taste buds plunge into the drink menu's wines, suds, and creative cocktails, such as the vodka-laced Electric Lemonade.
A smooth synthesis of Louisianan flavors and hearty Italian influences, Nawlins’ soul-stirring menu of home-cooked Cajun and creole-Italian cuisine culls many of its robust flavors from fresh, organic ingredients harvested by locally sourced producers. Kick-start communal feasts over an appetizer such as a spread of creole calamari, crowned with crumbled goat cheese and fiery house-made marinara, or a dish of fried alligator, served with a piquant dipping sauce ladled from the Everglades’ subterranean spice pools. With palates primed, diners can peruse the entree menu’s traditional creole dishes, including whole shrimp slathered in a rich Worcestershire-wine-butter sauce. Those pining for seafood can order Nawlins' gumbo, a maritime mélange of crawfish, shrimp, crab, and veggies. Unsheathe steak knives when tackling 12–14 ounces of blackened rib eye, or use your hands to snatch one of the restaurant's po boy sandwiches, jam-packed with fried oysters, italian meatballs, and crab cake. Diners finish with Hurricane cocktails from Nawlins’ full-service bar, a fruity rum concoction ideal for toasting to an upcoming vacation to northern Quebec.
When Wine Shoe owners Nora and Shannon Wiley started planning the shop's design, they wanted something that would blend their worldly travels with the historic culture of the surrounding Castleberry Hill neighborhood. The result was promptly recognized by Atlanta magazine, which compared Wine Shoe to a "private wine cellar in France stocked with wines from all over the world."
Today, the facility's floor-to-ceiling wine wall stands as a new challenge to rock climbers and as a stunning backdrop to an assortment of wine-related activities, including classes that drew more than 3,000 total students during 2011. Many of those students gathered around Wine Shoe's 12-foot rustic table, where, sitting beneath a glistening bronze and crystal chandelier, they paired sips with scrumptious hunks of education.
The shop carries more than 150 different wines, the majority of which come from small producers. It also keeps its door open to pooches, as Nora and Shannon's security dog, Beeren, is always looking for new buddies with whom to discuss the nuanced flavors of rawhide bones.
The Hawks migrated to Atlanta from St. Louis for the 1968–69 season and have since become a venerated local institution. Though the Atlanta club has never claimed an NBA title, they've appeared in the playoffs 27 times since 1969, stamping their punchcard frequently enough to receive free hot dogs for the whole team during their next postseason appearance. Since 1999, the Hawks have perched in the rafters of Philips Arena, where more than 18,000 fans cheer them to victory in the Eastern Conference's Southeast Division.