http://bluebicycle.net/

 

I’ve been curious to try The Blue Bicycle for over a year now. It’s quite a ways out of the city and as most of you know I have great levels of discomfort leaving the city boundaries.  The day started with a trek through part of Georgia Wine country. I found the Rabun area even more desolate than the Dawsonville area  and the wine equally bad.  This wasn’t the case with The Blue Bicycle though.

Let’s overlook the fact that it is located in a strip mall of sorts. Once inside you’re transported to a charming French bistro. Bright colors, charming staff and very comfortable diners.  I arrived just before the busy witching hour and just after the appetizer arrived there was a wait out the door. Really? Do these North Georgia people have a palate that goes past barbecue and hamburgers?

I look around and notice quickly that I am the youngest person in there.  Upon further scrutiny I was getting the impression these are not the stereotypical country bumpkins us city folk assume occupy those parts but moreso appear to be couples that have opted to retire outside of the city but still want city quality dining they grew accustomed to.

The menu was not dumbed down by any means. There is escargot and frogs legs to be had!

The wine list is fully and generously peppered with Georgia wines. I recommend avoiding those as you will almost certainly be disappointed but the European and west coast varietals are all perfectly good.

I started off with freshly made blue cheese chips (add bacon).  They arrived warm and generously dressed. They tasted perfect. All seasonings were in balance and they rounded out my glass of albarino very nicely. As much as I adore French food,  Spanish wines are my sweetheart.

Along with the salad (a special of the day) came a basket of thinly sliced perfectly delicious French bread. There was an accompanying petite crock of sweet butter with a sprinkling of sea salt.  That touch was not lost on me. It was heavenly.   The salad is another story. Beet and chevre, good. Iceburg (really? Iceburg? This isn’t Appleby’s)   I thought I heard iceberg lettuce is illegal in France. I guess that isn’t the case in Dawsonville, GA.  It really took away from all the wonderful components.   That plate went back unfinished.

Now it’s entrée time. I can’t resist veal on a French menu.  No duck offered so veal it is.  Traditional preparation with capers, obscene amounts of butter and boiled then fried homemade spatzele.  It was all so heavenly.  The trout was generously sized with lemony herb compound butter that set it if in a very distinct yet appropriate way. The French green beans were interestly topped off with a perfect petite dice of what tasted of pumpkin. I could be wrong as it is long out of season but by process of elimination it didn’t taste like any other member of the gourd family.

The finale I could wax poetic about for a week. Chocolate mousse is a must as a French joint.  This one was spectacular. A hazelnut variation with incredibly intense chocolate flavor, not too sweet and kissed very obviously yet not overwhelmingly with hazelnut. Chopped nuts and pirouette cookie delicious adorned it.

 

All this goodness for out of the city low prices. I am going back next time I am in that neck of the woods. 


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AuthorStephanie Anderson