Review: Honey Pig

Honey Pig is about the most delicious, least intimidating Korean restaurant imaginable.

I’m convinced there are those of you out there who still haven’t ventured to the corners of the city to seek out Atlanta's dizzying variety of ethnic food. Not only that, I’m convinced it’s not for lack of wanting. The reasons hardly matter. It might be the intense American fear of appearing out of place. I suffer from this affliction myself. What if I can’t read the menu? What if I’m the only white girl in the building? What if the food is too weird, I can’t eat it, I offend my hosts, and I’m chased out into the parking lot by an angry mob??? Obviously I've overcome these self-doubts for professional reasons, and also because the payoff is so huge. But my guess is that many of you haven't.

Well kids, this one’s for you. If the above set of totally understandable anxieties describes you at all, or if you’ve never ventured into a Korean barbecue restaurant but have an inkling that tons of grilled meat cooked in front of you might be fun, then get thee to Honey Pig. It’s about the most delicious, least intimidating Korean restaurant imaginable. In fact, it’s downright upscale. “I could bring my parents here,” my husband observed, somewhat impressed and somewhat disgusted. (He adheres to the skuzzier-and-weirder-the-better ethos when it comes to ethnic eating). The stone and black lacquered-wood accents and comfortable, fat leather chairs create a calming atmosphere that would please almost anyone.