One for the road...the beauty of Savannah.
Savannah, Georgia’s oldest city, is a vacation in the truest sense: a perfect city for strolling and gazing, where one might aspire for little else beyond eating well, and drinking often. It’s cloaked in silvery Spanish moss that seems to drip from the massive arms of live oak trees. Those limbs lend a welcome shade—during our August visit, the temperature peaked in the high 90s mid-afternoon, which affable locals call moderate. Streets are punctuated with well-kept squares (which residents refer to as neither parks nor plazas), rimmed with benches that beckon for your seat. It’s easy, thus, to take things slowly in Savannah.
The city is a jewelry box of history: each block, it seems, boasts a statue or relic, and the homes and churches are spectacular, encompassing nearly all of the country’s architectural styles through the 18th and 19th centuries. There are stately three-story Second French Empire mansions with manicured lawns and sweeping Victorian abodes beset with latticed trim like dollhouses, as well as places of worship in looming, turreted Gothic and Romanesque Revival styles. The historic district is subdued but still very colorful, from deep red brick Italianate homes half hidden by towering palms to creamy white Greek Revival structures.
Savannah’s identity is also deeply entrenched in its gastronomy. Its early influences from the spice and slave trades are being re-envisioned, oft elevated by innovative young chefs and barkeep. Ask locals where to eat and they’ll rarely swerve from a handful of the city’s darlings, which makes things easy. The following is a highlight of Savannah’s offerings.
Nestled in the historic district but with a midcentury modern feel is The Public Kitchen. The place serves spectacular fare, including (we’re told) Savannah’s best cheeseburger: think a mound of fresh slaw, cheddar, and coca-cola BBQ sauce. High on our list were the robust salads, such as pickled watermelon rind and apricots (tossed among kale and arugula), or blue cheese, granny smith slices and picked shallots (over spinach), as well as a bright watermelon medley with mint, balsamic, and creamy goat cheese. For a bigger appetite, we suggest the rich duck confit, served with smoky mac and cheese. During our August visit, we were also pleasantly surprised to find Public serving the sought-after Pumking beer, an aromatic autumnal brew laden with cloves and cinnamon that generally becomes scarce by Halloween.
Meanwhile, the city has a new coffee joint, Collins Quarter—a capacious cafe with exposed brick, marble tables, and deep red leather benches. Mid morning, the sun floods the place, making it a perfect spot for a flat white and avocado toast, which comes dotted with a poached egg, herbs, paper thin slices of radish, sea salt and feta. We so enjoyed chatting with the amiable young wait staff that we decided to extend breakfast via a delicious Spanish garnacha, because when in Savannah, why not?
Towards the river, 22 Square at the Andaz (a Hyatt hotel) may seem a bit played out, with its farm-to-fork adage and chic Brooklyn/Scandinavian interior, but it’s the cocktails that rule. We favored a luscious, almond-infused twist on a whiskey sour; other highlights included smoked cherry and generous Curacao, respectively. The hotel also has a neat little outdoor pool, open on the weekends to non-hotel guests.
A stone’s throw away is A.Lure, with its cheesy name (its highlight is seafood…get it?) and tacky interior, as well as superb service and rib-sticking ‘low southern’ cuisine. One of the signature dishes, creamy grits made with leeks, bacon and local shrimp is so rich it melts in your mouth. We also dug the delightfully simple duo of grilled brie toasts served alongside a tomato bisque drizzled with basil oil.
It’s said that the city’s beauty is rivaled only by its hospitality; we’d say as much for the food.
