By MERIDITH FORD
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
It would be easy to get snagged on the name Cakes & Ale, a new restaurant in the heart of downtown Decatur. Time could be wasted pondering why a neighborhood spot opened by the former sous chef of Watershed (just down the street) would go by such a seemingly odd moniker.
First thoughts: Billy Allin, the chef-owner, is a distant relation to William Shakespeare, from whence the name doth come.
Nope.
OK — Allin is a big Somerset Maugham fan.
Maybe, but I don't think Maugham's novel by that title is the point of the restaurant's name.
Maybe he really likes cakes and ... ale?
Here's the quote, said by the boisterous and burly Sir Toby Belch to the Puritan Malvolio in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night: "Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?"
Aha! Even the virtuous can sup in style, according to Shakespeare.
Apparently according to Allin, too, who with wife Kristin has created a haven of good food, be thou virtuous or not.
In the space that was most recently Viet Chateaux (now that's an odd name), the two have sculpted a handsome place to gather and eat, sparsely decorated, but highlighted by an inviting bar, a fresh, seasonal menu and a wine list that is quite possibly the best while most affordable in town. Window boxes brim with fresh herbs, and welcoming afternoon light streams through the windows. Cakes & Ale is a neighborhood spot destined to become a destination.
And of course, there are the phatty cakes. They sit pristinely under a glass cake stand on the bar, as if jettisoned there by Martha herself, perfectly stacked into a pretty pyramid. What are they? Pastry chef Cynthia Wong makes ginger-laced cookie cakes, soft and pillowy, and fills them with a dreamily fluffy and tangy buttercream.
Allin comes by his simple approach honestly: he graduated from California Culinary Academy in San Francisco and spent an internship at famed Chez Panisse in Berkeley. Add an Italian grandmother, and a winning mix for a right-minded, seasonal chef was made.
He admits openly that the blackboard menu of daily specials springs from a craving of whatever he wants to eat that day and often offers the most interesting of goodies: house-made brawn (Allin is a do-it-yourself disciple of seasonal and sustainable), though a little too jellied, was still a meaty delight spread on brioche toast; a smallish serving of the classic "toad in the hole" was described by the waiter with this first line: "Do you remember the last scene in 'Moonstruck?'"
Yes, but at Cakes & Ale the memory is made new with buttery soft brioche surrounding a soft, over-easy egg with rolled forest ham filled with spinach and covered in a smooth white Mornay sauce.
The butter lettuce from Allin's garden produces the freshest, most scrumptious salad, lightly tossed in vinaigrette, I have ever eaten. Just lettuce, dressed in a bit of splendid tartness. Talk about virtuous.
Away from the blackboard, the main menu offers items that are sure to become signatures. Arancini are moist, deep-fried Sicilian rice balls served playfully in a papered cone like fair food, seasoned with hints of citrus and fennel pollen. Shoestring fries, hot from the fryer, are remarkable.
And Parmesan cheese soufflé, though too stingy a serving, is soft, cheesy and light, served with springtime asparagus spears.
Allin makes his own pickles, and they accompany a trio of traditionally made deviled eggs; sometimes spicy mixed vegetables, other times bread-and-butters. Either way, they are a treat. Gnocchi make a simple, yet grand appearance with fennel sausage and not-too-spicy tomato sauce, but it's chicken — yes chicken — that upstages everything but the arancini. A saucily roasted half-bird with braised cabbage practically steals the show.
Until dessert, see phatty cakes, above. For other options, press Georgia rhubarb crumble with crème fraiche ice cream, or pistachio-strawberry baked Alaska (alas, no longer on the menu since Allin changes it so often). But this individually sized bit of ice cream, cake and fresh Georgia strawberries (nearly gone for the season) blanketed in swirls of sweet meringue will not be forgotten.
Early on, there were problems with the liquor license, and on one visit the bathroom was shut down and we had to use the boutique next door. An inconvenience, yes, but like the name nothing to get snagged on.
'Cakes and ale' is an expression for 'the good life.' Cakes & Ale is a restaurant that provides it.
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