The Vincenzo's Supreme Pizza.

Pizza, to me, is an extremely personal choice.
Me? Honestly, I like ‘em all — every odd stop between the recognized styles of New York and deep dish Chicago pies.
My youth was filled with rural interpretations of pizza. I vividly recall the first pizza place I entered, the smells, the dinging pinball machine. The crust was thin, cracker-crisp and the toppings tainted by well-meaning Midwesterners who were doing their best in a time and place where tomatoes came in cans most of the year and pepperoni was a specialty, gourmet food.
But, man, those pies were heaven — or at least the memories are. I spent many a moony-eyed night stretching melted Mozzarella cheese from the fingers of that weekends’ teenaged beauty. The pies were piping hot, made to order and exotic manna to a kid who had grown up on a dairy farm.
Later, when I began to travel, I sampled the monstrously-sized, drooping, gooey New York slices. I maneuvered my way through two-inch thick Chicago pizzas — the fillings of which contained more than a week’s worth of groceries for a Third World family.
And along the way, I came to understand that the most memorable pizzas were not made legendary as much by the quality or style as they were by the place. The old “ambiance” factor did as much to flavor my pizza dreams as did the pie itself.
One of those places in Savannah is Vincenzo’s Pizzeria, a little strip center joint on White Bluff Road. About 20 seats inside, a pair of two-tops outside and plenty of charisma keeps me — and the regulars — coming back.
Regulars are what make up most of Jimmy’s customers. The former fine dining chef makes frequent passes through the dining room — calling almost everyone by name. One night, a customer came in to grab a to-go order — a special pie Jimmy had made with topping the customer had brought back from a road trip to a destination far more exotic than Savannah.
Want a label? OK, let’s call it New York style. For me, though, the difference comes in the toppings. Jimmy’s Supreme pie boast big chunks of fresh, sweet Italian sausage, generously sliced pieces of pepperoni, strings of tender, sweet onion and fresh sliced mushrooms. The black olives have briny bite; the cheese adorns without masking the ingredients or the yeasty essence of Jimmy’s crust.
The marinara sauce, like the cheese, is part of the show, not the star. Unlike it’s commercial, chain store rivals, you can actually recognize the ingredients on this pizza — and you can taste the freshness.
The place is clean, the service is attentive and the eye to detail is superb. Yeah, it’s out of the way –away from the touristas downtown and the throngs that typically clog Southside eateries.
Bravo for Vincenzo’s, where everybody knows your name — and you know the pie will be a work of art.
Find ‘em on Facebook by clicking here. Jimmy posts special offers for his Facebook friends.

After a long, hot day on being “on” for the people around us, the thing Miss T.J. and I wanted most was a quiet, relaxing dinner. Nothing too heavy, we agreed on that, but still, we longed for adventurous food.
The twinkling lights surrounding the al fresco dining area of Chiriya’s Thai Cuisine beckoned. On a cooler night, we would have happily grabbed seats here to watch the zipping traffic and hustling commerce of busy Abercorn Street, Tonight, however, air-conditioning seemed a good idea.
Chiriya Moore owns this little Southside restaurant that flies under a banner of Thai cuisine but offers a large selection dishes inspired by her many years in Hawaii. Those were the years she gained her most restaurant experience, a world away from the rural town (“I’m just a country girl,” she says) she was raised in just north of Bangkok.
We met for a talk on the second anniversary of the restaurant, Sept. 11. I was embarrassed to have to ask her last name; after all, I had always just known the slightly built, smiling woman as Chiriya.
“It’s like Cher,” I said. “You really only need one name.”
She exploded with laughter, that’s something she does quickly. It’s what she says she likes best about the restaurant business:
“I love to see people being happy,” she explained. “And it makes me happy to look into the restaurant and see people laughing and enjoying themselves. I wake up every day excited to go to work.”
Most diners never see Chiriya. She does most of the cooking, assisted by her son Justin. The front man is Chiriya’s nephew Marshall Urstadt. “We have good chemistry together,” Chiriya says. They have their roles – Chiriya, 53, has hard knocks and kitchen skills to her credit; Marshall comes to the table with an MBA, a penchant for service and a passion for beer.
More on that later.
Some diners have been critical of Chiriya for lacking authenticity, for being too pricey for its small portions. Still, the little restaurant does a couple of turns at lunch and dinner and is a favorite gathering spot for small parties, soldiers and wives from Hunter Army Airfield and Southsiders bored with chain food and corporate themes. The former stay-at-home mom of 18 years calls this her new career and from all appearances, it’s working.
We we ushered into one of two plush corner banquettes and looked out over a restaurant that was nearly full – and did fill during our visit. We had dined here before, so tonight’s selections were easy.
For starters, we each chose spring rolls. Mine were filled with a mixture of clear noodles, pork, shrimp, mushrooms and carrots. They arrived piping hot, the crisp, fried wrappers had been cleanly cut on the bias to reveal the delicious filling. I hastily dunked on into spicy pineapple vinaigrette sauce and popped a bite into my mouth.
Thank goodness Marshall had delivered by German EKU Pilsner to quench the fire.
Ms. T.J.’s spring rolls were filled with vegetarian goodies like lettuce, carrots and mint leaves. Other than a difference filling, this dish presented as beautifully as its meat-filled cousin – and it was just as flavorful and satisfying.
My Pilsner was spent, so I called on Marshall to pair a beer for my next course, Pad Se-Ew, a fried, flat noodle dish in a sweet brown sauce. His choice at first seemed odd, but once I tasted the Kinmount Willie Oatmeal Stout, I remembered that I should never question his pairings.
You see, Chiriya is also Savannah’s most impressive destination for true beer aficionados. Marshall has a personal preference for Belgium beers, but has assemble a beer list that surpassed the restaurant’s wine list. It is, as you would imagine, heavy with Belgium beers, but also offers rotating selections of serious American craft beers from breweries like Left Hand, Dog Fish Head and Stone.
The restaurant conducts regular beer-paired dinners that have become a hot ticket. The normally reserved restaurant turns part hame show as Marshall conducts between dish sessions of beer trivia and doles out prizes like beer coasters, t-shirts and bar signs. Keep and eye on this young man – his passion for the brewer’s art and the experience he’s gaining with his aunt will one day combine to reward all of this city’s foodies and beer lovers.
The beer epitomized the point I’ve been trying to sell lately about high end beers. That is, stop thinking of these as beers that you’ll drink alone or guzzle down from a 12-ounce bottle. These are beers meant to be paired, intended to compliment food.
This stout would come up short on my radar as a stand alone stout. It’s fairly week, almost watery. But that characteristic was exactly what was need for the sweetness of my Pad Se-Ew. The chocolate and toasted malt of the beer shone through the flavors without stomping on the subtleties of the fried noodles.
The dish itself is reminiscent of Thai street food – a quickly assembled and rib-sticking meal built around wide rice noodles, garlic and soy sauce. Chiriya uses broccoli instead of Chinese broccoli – which is more a kale-like leafy vegetable. My protein portion came from seafood, a mixture of calamari, shrimp and scallops. It was tich and satisfying – which explains it being a staple comfort food among the Thai.
Miss T.J. Was in a round noodle mood and selected classic Pad Thai with chicken. Thin rice noodles get a quick stir fry with bean sprouts, eggs and green onions. A spritz of lemon juice brightened the flavors and added more complexity.
We each left food on the plate but did not go away hungry.
On a previous visit, we had enjoyed a popular appetizer of Crispy Noodles. This stunning mountain of fried vermicelli noodles soon dotted with mildly spiced and sweet sauces is as fun to eat and it is difficult to make. For a couple, or two couples, it’s a fun way to start the meal — poke and pull through the noodles, which are not nearly as filling as the sheer mass would indicate.
We also enjoyed the freshness of a trio of Crispy Shrimp that are lightly batter-fried and encrusted with the same noodles. These big, butter-flied portions are accompanied by tangy pineapple vinaigrette dipping sauce.
Chiriya really shines with its curry dishes, which are as flavorful as they are stunning to see. I favor the Yellow Curry with Chicken, the flavor of which is tinged by a Thai cooking staple, Kaffir lime leaves.
Many of the restaurant’s herbs are gown on planters on the front sidewalk; still others come from Chiriya’s home garden. At both lunch and dinner seatings the restaurant is decked out in black and white linens. Bold, red walls add warmth and enhance the coziness that prevails when night falls and twinkling candlelight fills the room.
Wine and beer is available for diners but is going to waste among Southsiders as an after work destination. I’d love to see more folks gathering for happy hour – or to sample Marshall’s beer menu. Service is always well-staffed and attentive. An extensive selection of vegetarian options is available.
Miss T.J. enjoyed her Thai tea with cream – an iced drink – one of several non-traditional beverages on the menu..
The menu lists spice levels and gives diners an option on most dishes – a welcome choice for folks whose palates don’t tolerate the fiery heat of some Thai cuisine.
Nestled on the fringe of Chatham Plaza Shopping Center, the restaurant has plenty of parking, easy access, an elegant dining room and a menu with seemingly endless variety.
The smiling woman peeking around the kitchen door is Chiriya. Wave, laugh and raise a glass in congratulations – she’s living her dream.

Chiriya’s Thai Cuisine
Hours: Monday-Friday, lunch 11 a.m.-2:30 p.m., dinner 5-10 p.m.; Saturday, lunch noon-2:30 p.m. dinner 5-10 p.m.; Sunday, dinner 5-10 p.m.
7805 Abercorn St. (Chatham Plaza)
303-0555
Reservations: Yes
Credit Cards: Yes
Bar: Wine and beer
Dinner for two: $35-$70

To select and highlight a single Savannah restaurant in this annual “Best Of” issue is like asking a mother to name her favorite child.

The city’s restaurants, the men and women who mange them and cook the food and wait the tables are as uniquely distinct as siblings. Some have individual strengths, others are immensely talented in all areas. Regardless, all of the good ones – like well-behaved children – have commendable traits.

So, for this “Best Of” issue, Savannah Magazine Art Director Michelle Karner and I embarked on a progressive dinner that showcased a handful of the city’s finest restaurants and their chefs. Instead of moving from one home to another – as is the usual practice – we moved from restaurant to restaurant – and Michelle and I would like you top join us, at least in words – for our movable feast.

The Friday night we chose in July was seasonably hot and I had been apprehensive about finding nearby parking at our first two downtown stops. Then, while sitting in traffic one day, inspiration struck:

Hire a Pedi-Cab.

Coordinating the pick-ups was easy – and something I discovered the Pedi-Cab crew does on a regular basis. We parked our vehicle at Cha Bella – our second stop – and took a Pedi-Cab to our first stop.

The late afternoon sun was warm, but our driver skirted through squares canopied with oaks to make our ride cooler. Still, the idea of a nice cool martini at Saya Lounge had me anxious for the ride to end.

Friends Gretchen, Paul and Marcia met us at Saya and were admittedly as taken with the stunning interior as I had been on an earlier visit. The lounge is an urban oasis unlike anything else on the Broughton Street strip.

It’s cool, with great lighting and lots of reds, blacks and metallic surfaces. Cozy nooks and luxurious banquettes are inviting. The basement level lounge is windowless, which adds to its mysteriousness.

I went old school, a Jame’s Bond-style martini with a pair of plump olives. The martini is Saya’s specialty, and Michelle chose a Lychee Martini, which is fruity – but possesses enough savory flavors to not be cloying. Our friends sampled from the wine and beer menus – Saya also offers a full bar of premium spirits.

It was quiet, just how I wanted to start this evening of feasting. In later hours, a DJ ramps up the energy and Saya becomes a Mecca of 80’s dance music.

I had allowed 45 minutes to an hour for each of our stops – and restaurateurs had been very willing to accommodate my approximate reservations after I told them of my plan. With one eye on the time and the other on the lone olive languishing in my glass, I placed another pick-up call to Pedi-Cab.

A few minutes later, Jovencio Mercado, owner of Saya, passed by our corner table to tell me our ride was waiting upstairs.

Emerging onto the sidewalk we found the sun lower in the sky and a nice, warm breeze to our backs as we headed due east on Broughton Street. It was a great way to chat about our first stop – and get a first-hand look at the changing face of downtown.

In no time, we were standing at the hostess stand of Cha Bella – and anxious to sample our first course of the night.

I had been talking with Michelle about Owner and Chef Mathew Roher’s penchant for sourcing an amazing garden basket of organic produce. As if on cue, a beautiful plate showcasing those skills – and that lovely produce – appeared at our table.

A salad of sorrel and peeled Sun Gold tomatoes splashed with sherry tomato vinaigrette was a perfect palate refresher. Artisan Feta cheese from Swainsboro, Georgia, Flat Creek Dairy added creaminess and tempura battered blossoms – squash I believe – brought a spot of bright color and crispy texture.

We also sampled a seafood appetizer featuring sautéed local shrimp – big, sweet morsels – and large, white chunks of butter poached King Crab. This mini-dish of seafood teased with a few bites of sautéed collard greens and Parmesan grits. A Provencal sauce of tarragon added an herbaceous and fresh taste to the shrimp.

I had anticipated sampling the braised Kobe beef short ribs – and this dish proved worth the wait. Crisp haricot vert and tomato coulis added a palette of green and red to the beef, which was served in a pool of its own rich braising liquid. The gnocchi were a surprise to us both – they were made from potato. Savannah is not typically a gnocchi town – but potato gnocchi in this city are as rare as hen’s teeth.

Many Savannah diners don’t realize that Cha Bella is under new ownership. It’s had a face lift to create a warmer feel and the menu reflects an emerging benchmark of cuisine for this city. Roher has raised the bar with his expectations for staff – and for the food coming from Cha Bella’s kitchen.

He has the chops.

As former general manager and executive chef for luxurious Hampton Island Reserve, Roher brings world-class skills to the table. His efforts to help breathe new life into Trustees’ Garden with a farmer’s market – and his advocacy for organic farming – have already shown he has a commitment to the community and its diners.

Next stop – the main course at one of Savannah’s perennial fine dining destinations – Elizabeth on 37th.

The sidewalk leading through aromatic herbs and flowers leading to the grand mansion that is Elizabeth on 37th is always a little humbling – but also foretells a bit about the experience that waits behind the big,wooden door. Among all Savannah restaurants, this one always tops my short list of the best. Chef Kelley Yambor commands the kitchen with passion and creativity. Owners Greg and Gary Butch wait tables along with talented young men and women – all of whom have infinite knowledge of the restaurant’s impressive wine cellar. For food, service and wine – Elizabeth is the gold standard in Savannah.

We began with the restaurants now legendary baby greens and fresh herb salad. A couple of glasses of wine, this salad and homemade biscuits is a comforting and flavorful starter. Minimal dressing allows the fresh herbs to shine. It’s always a challenge to identify the ingredients while sipping a cool, white wine.

But don’t dilly-dally! Our main course arrived promptly and I was envious of Michelle’s Gullah-fried rice topped with three of the largest scallops I’ve ever seen.

Bacon bits and a fine dice of fresh vegetables added flavor and texture to the wonderfully seasoned rice. The scallops had been pan-seared separately – and each was carefully caramelized while preserving the sweet, moist interior meat. A tangy sauce of sour cream, dill and cucumber added another layer of flavor to the scallops. This send up of Southern regional ingredients is exactly the kind of food Elizabeth on 37th has used to stake its claim on many “Best” lists.

Regular readers of this column will know that I don’t usually order fish, but a special this night sounded too good to ignore. Again, the dish utilized fresh herbs – and any herb dish from this restaurant will be a winner.

Finely chopped mint, basil and tarragon had been used to encrust a large filet of snapper. The fish was moist, hot and naturally mild. The herbs added a pleasing trio of aromas and tastes. A bed of small butter beans lent Southern authenticity to the dish – and count among my favorite comfort foods.

Greg’s wine selections with this course were spot on as usual. We took a few moments to relax – and take in the dining room form our comfortable corner banquette. Duty called, we settled the check, bade farewell and headed crosstown for dessert.

The Midtown location of Kasey’s Gourmet Grille was just moments away. Manager Cort Bello and Owner Daniel Berman were waiting for us with what became an even more impressive dessert course than I had imagined.

Miss T.J. and our friend Guin made a appearance for dessert – you know Miss T.J. is never far away from chocolaty desserts.

Chocolate turned out to be just a small part of what the Kasey’s crew had in mind.

We were each served mini portions of the restaurant’s core desserts – chocolate-raspberry flourless torte, sourdough bread pudding and Bailey’s Irish Cream cheesecake. Each is more decadent than the other – regardless of the order in which they are eaten!

Aperitif glasses of tawny Port and Sauternes were perfect compliments.

We each had our favorites – mine is the torte. Dark chocolate makes its presence known with each mouthful – but then sweet raspberry begins to co-mingle and trigger a different range of taste buds. It’s a dessert that is perfectly paired with a great coffee or an after dinner cordial.

We shared a pair of sorbets – one a silvery champagne treat, the other brimming with fresh blueberries. Chocolate dipped strawberries added tartness and more chocolate goodness to this course.

Kasey’s is my neighborhood restaurant of choice. Daniel and his team have taken this young eatery to new heights with each passing year and the continually growing loyalists know they can depend on Kasey’s for quality ingredients and remarkable service. The menu sees subtle seasonal changes and nightly specials are a pedestal on which talented Chef Nelson DeJesus highlights fresh ingredients – as well as his imagination.

Our new twist on an old idea was a great way to get a sense of the culinary diversity of Savannah – and was a fun way to take in a variety of different atmospheres in one evening. Along the way, we saw several friends, met new ones and discovered first-hand the best of the Hostess City.

Conduct your own progressive dinner

With a little planning and some advance phone work, you can experience a progressive dinner like Michelle and I. Here are some tips.

Keep the party small. Two to four people is plenty. Any larger group and service times become unwieldy.

Allow about an hour at each location, plus some travel time. We didn’t languish much but a small group of friends may easily become distracted.

Make a reservation at each restaurant. Explain what you are doing and ask if a half hour window is acceptable. Some Savannah restaurants are very accommodating about reservation times, others aren’t.

To expedite the process, ask the restaurant if they can prepare a prix fixe menu. That leaves dishes somewhat of a surprise, but adds to the fun and cuts down on time spent reading menus.

It would be very easy to do a progressive dinner on foot downtown. Stake out your favorite restaurants and walk from site-to-site one weekend to judge whether this will be doable by a small group – and women in heels.

If you plan on consuming wine or alcohol at each location, consider having one member be your designated driver.

Don’t plan on rushing. It’s easy to get off track. Have fun, allow plenty of time – and come hungry!

Trimas Wasan never wanted to be in the restaurant business.
The native of Bangkok, Thailand, grew up in a restaurant family, often rising long before school to help his mother prep for the day’s meals.
“That was before blenders,” Wasan said. “And I would be up at 5:30 crushing peppers over and over again. I could never imagine working in a restaurant as an adult.”
But upon moving to America, Wasan found himself in a restaurant kitchen again – this time as a dishwasher.
“I really didn’t like that,” he said. “But my English was not very good so I was learning everything. Soon, I began making salads, then appetizers, learning as I went along, until I became a line cook.”
This self-taught cook didn’t stop there. He went on to become executive chef at a French restaurant in Atlanta, worked a number of years for Charleston-based Garibaldi Inc. and first came to Savannah as chef of that company’s Bistro Savannah.
An avid golfer, Wasan has attended The Master’s each of the last 20 years and was honored in 2000 when he was selected to cook for that year’s champion, V.J Singh.
Another offer lured him back to Atlanta, but in 2004, Wasan returned to Savannah and opened Kao Thai Cuisine on the busy, palm-lined Victory Drive boulevard that passes through Thunderbolt.
The celebration of Wasan’s own restaurant did not come without challenges. The location had been a pretty rough bar, according to Wasan. He gutted the building, painted its walls a rich butternut squash yellow and draped billowing fabrics from the ceiling. Linen-topped tables lent an air of elegance to the humble little building. He settled on the name, Kao, which translates to rice, the staple ingredient for Wasan’s entirely genuine Thai menu.
“I’m very proud of this place,” Wasan said. “The mayor, the police came in to tell me how happy they were with what I had done here to turn this place around.”
Ambiance is meaningless though without good food and service. Wasan addressed those points by remaining true to this Thai roots – preparing only Thai dishes, unlike he says, other Thai restaurants that incorporate other Southeast Asian cuisines in their menus.
Wasan works with every server and insists on service that exceeds the seemingly casual atmosphere. Servers place diner’s napkins in their laps, glasses are polished and flatware is spotless.
Our friend Marcia joined Miss T.J. and me for our night out at Kao. It was a typically busy Friday night for the 75-seat restaurant but we noticed that every table received very individualized attention – a hallmark of Wasan’s philosophy.
We started with a trio of appetizers. Thai baskets – fried corn flour baskets filled with a savory, sautéed mixture of shrimp, chicken, carrots, onions and sweet corn – were crunchy, bite-sized morsels. The baskets’ myriad of sweet flavors was augmented by peanut sauce laced with sesame seeds.
Marcia’s choice of grilled calamari skewers presented an opportunity to taste these chewy squid pieces sans their usual presentation of a deep-fried batter. The generous portions had been marinated in Thai sweet chili sauce, which added both sweetness and peppery tang.
My Thai dumplings were a nightly special. These steamed dumplings were tender and packed with meat and veggies for an experience in texture. This, as did all the appetizers, demonstrated the amount of tedious handwork that goes into many Thai dishes. Great flavors, perfect preparation and a beautiful presentation all came together for a satisfying beginning course.
Between bites, several friends came in and we learned by watching that many notable members of the Savannah community are regulars at Kao. In fact, Wasan says, Kao is becoming something of a gathering spot on Monday nights for chefs and restaurant workers looking for a night out on their only night off.
Miss T. J.’s lightly fried and generous portion of sea bass was accompanied by Wasan’s Three-Flavor Sauce – a combination of ingredients that are, at once, sweet, savory and spicy with Thai chilies. It was a pleasant pairing that added depth to the fish without masking the buttery goodness of sea bass.
Jasmine rice, adorned with a spot of black sticky rice, accompanied each dish.
Marcia had the choice of green curry sauce or garlic sauce with her lobster and rice. While I would have chosen the green curry for its color, creamy texture and moderate spice, Marcia chose the other option. The large lobster tail was tender and sweet – its whiteness was exaggerated as it sat perched atop an aromatic pool of sauce made with a veal reduction and plenty of garlic.
The restaurant’s flexibility on this dish reminded me that every dish is prepared from scratch – and Wasan’s dedication to pleasing the customer means that ingredients can be added, omitted or modified to fit your particular tastes.
I wouldn’t have chosen anything different about my order of crispy duck. This plump, half duck was moist and tasty with crispy skin that cracked and popped with each bite. A sauce made of raspberry sauce, Chambord liqueur and Merlot added sweetness to each bite – and the slight acidity of the sauce cut through the duck’s delicious fattiness. The dish is served amid a ring of blue flame created by the last minute addition of light rum.
Earlier in the week, we sampled more traditional Thai dishes with a carryout order. The smells and anticipation of the flavors almost caused me to pull over and sample long before I arrived home.
A pair of basil rolls in sticky rice paper wrappers were plump with lettuce and rice noodles, sweet, tiny shrimp, crunchy bean sprouts and freshly chopped basil – which I suspect came from Wasan’s large garden. He grows many of his own herbs, lemongrass and even Kaffir lime.
Our other orders of Thai Basil with beef and Pad Mee Mao – chicken with rice noodles, garlic, green beans, onions, tomatoes and basil leaves – arrived home hot and delicious. The variety of flavors, textures and spiciness made a perfect easy supper for Miss T.J. and I. Every ingredient was fresh and properly prepared.
I asked Wasan if keeping fresh and unusual ingredients drove his food costs too high.
“I don’t even run those numbers,” he told me. “I work for myself and only have to please myself. I believe if I prepare the best food, the money will take care of itself.”
That’s a level of commitment you won’t often hear from a restaurant owner. It’s certainly a testament to Wasan’s devotion to quality, as well as an indicator of the confidence he possesses both in the kitchen and the front of the house.
But we weren’t thinking about those heady things when the dessert menu arrived.
Miss T. J.’s fried ice cream was doused with flaming rum upon arrival. Once the alcohol burned off, the resulting crunchy covering of the sweet mango and green tea ice creams cracked with each bite. The richness forced her to surrender before finishing.
Secretly, I thing she was coveting the fried bananas Marcia and I had ordered. The caramelized banana slices were fanned across the plates and accompanied by a large scoop of ice cream. Marcia chose mango; I selected coconut – and we were both sighing our way through this decadent finish to the evening’s meal.
Kao’s wine and beer lists are small but suitable for the range of cuisine served. A lunch menu offers other dishes and nightly specials offer additional variety that ranges from beef and lamb to chicken and freshly caught seafood.
Kao’s standards of freshness, quality and service place it among the best of Savannah’s restaurants but that is not an indicator of pretentiousness. In fact, diners in shorts and sandals are equally comfortable among couples dressed in their finest for a special night on the town. On one hand, it’s an elegant fine dining restaurant – on the other, it’s a neighborhood restaurant where the staff and owner quickly learn your name and make you feel as welcome as family.

Kao Thai Cuisine
3017 E. Victory Drive
912-691-2080
Lunch: (Monday-Friday) 11 a.m.-3 p.m.; (Saturday) noon-3 p.m.
Dinner: (Sunday-Thursday) 5-10 p.m.; (Friday) 5-11 p.m.; (Saturday) 3-11 p.m.
Reservations: Yes
Credit Cards: Yes
Bar: Beer and wine

- “Barbeque,” by Robert Earl Keen

Barbeque. Bar-b-que. BBQ.
Regardless of the spelling, – I prefer barbecue – the mere hint at the word sets mouths to watering and noses sniffing for telltale hints of delicious hickory smoke.
In our beloved South, barbecue means one thing – slow cooking pork over low heat with plenty of smoke. Blasphemers confuse barbecuing with “grilling out,” which means high, searing heat for a brief period of time – suitable for steaks and hot dogs.
Barbecuing requires patience, practice and shaman-like skills that recognize how to bring the trinity – heat, smoke and meat – together is such a way that moistness and tenderness prevail.
Southerners are devoted to their pork. Prior to the Civil War, it was estimated that Southerners ate around five pounds of pork for every one pound of beef. Prevalence helped – hogs in the form of wild or feral beasts ran wild – you don’t run across many feral herds of cattle.
And every part of the pig was eaten, including the ears, feet, and other organs. Hog slaughtering was a time for celebration, neighborhood feasts referred to as “pig-pickin’s.” These affairs were the beginnings of the traditional Southern barbecue.
Today, USDA reports indicate that Southerners eat just over 52 pounds of pork per person a year – but we now consume more beef than pork. Most of our pork consumption comes in the form of convenience cuts – like the chop or bacon – but the remainder simply must be delicious, smoky, miraculous barbecue.

In our part of the South, we usually enjoy our barbecue as a pulled pork sandwich on a bun. A sweet, tomato-based sauce is served on the side. When Georgians eat ribs, we’re “double seasoners” – a spicy dry rub infuses the ribs while smoking and a mopping of sauce is applied to form a glaze in the final stages of cooking.
We like our barbecue tender and moist. Pulling away from the bone is too tender for ribs. Perfect ribs allow a clean bite – and then final cleaning of the bone should be easy.
Each Southern region has its own particular variety of barbecue and sauce. Carolinians favor tangier vinegar based sauces. Memphis barbecue is best known for tomato- and vinegar-based sauces. South Carolina is the only state that includes all four recognized barbecue sauces, including mustard based, vinegar based, light and heavy tomato based. North Carolina diners often find their pulled pork sandwich topped with cole slaw.
Barbecue smoking is done in a pit, which calls for another stroll into the history books.
If we define barbecue as a process of cooking meat in pits then the inventors of this process are probably the Polynesians, who have been masters of slow, pit cooked pork for thousands of years. Today’s “pits” are usually highly sophisticated smokers on wheels that come with five-figure price tags and powered rotisseries.
While the etymology of the word “barbecue” is somewhat shrouded in debate, a similar word surfaced in the 17th century. On the West Indian island of Hispaniola, Arawakan Indians had a method of erecting a frame of wooden sticks over a fire in order to dry meat. In their language, they called it a barbac