Six Feet Under (Grant Park): What impresses isn’t so much the elevation of this always-busy second-floor rooftop. But close to the railing, you can almost have an out-of-body experience looking at the quiet walkways between the historic tombstones of Oakland Cemetery across the street. Order a cold beer and fill up on crab legs or peel-and-eat shrimp among a diverse, good-natured crowd.
Highland Tap: Atlanta’s most straightforward tavern, with its wood paneling and burgundy carpet, sits just fifteen steps below the bustling corner of Virginia and Highland avenues. The martinis are still icy, and dinner leans heavily on the meat. Filet mignon Oscar, slow-roasted prime rib, and a famous steak burger made with primo trimmings don’t require that you dress up.
Whiskey Blue: Alas, the W Atlanta–Buckhead removed the cream-colored sofa from the elevator that ascends to its twelfth floor. Once there, though, enjoy the slick bar with its glassed-in terrace perched over Lenox Square. Drinks veer toward the sweet side: Think pear sangria.
Proof and Provision: A side entrance off Ponce de Leon Avenue leads to the Georgian Terrace’s dusky watering hole. Choose drinks from among the balanced cocktails (including a barrel-aged rye Manhattan) and nibble on Americana whimsies like French bread pizza.
The Glenn Hotel: Too bad there isn’t a crumb of food offered at Downtown’s most attractive open-sky bar, covered by a butter-yellow canvas canopy and furnished with weatherproof rattan furniture. The space offers a 360-degree view of Atlanta, punctuated with vast forested patches and the city’s curving skyline that stretches to Buckhead. Sip a mint julep variation made with bourbon and peach liqueur.
Trader Vic’s: Welcome to the Polynesian underworld. Yes, the same kitschy tiki figures, bamboo pilasters, and blowfish dangling above the cocktail bar have been around since 1976. It’s hard to take life too seriously at this lovable relic, and live bands, dizzying mai tais, and occasional drag performances bring in the crowds. Something to chase the booze? Go for the fried rice.
“Location, location, location”—preferably with street visibility and plenty of parking—is one of the tenets of restaurant success. Ideally, though, a city should also have secret haunts where urbanites can hide from the maddening congestion and cruel glare. Because so much of my life is spent jostling for tables with people eager to see and be seen, I cherish places where I can escape from too much sensory stimulation. Give me an alluringly dim basement, or a soaring rooftop with the night air to fill my lungs.
Other than some glittery glimpses caught from the expressway, few public settings offer spectacular views of Atlanta. You might as well disappear underground—although not to Underground Atlanta, that subterranean reminder of failed entrepreneurship. Restaurants and bars underneath the city seem to better thrive than those far above it. For example, the reputation of La Grotta, Buckhead’s Italian class act, has been enhanced rather than harmed by its cellar-level dining room in a mid-fifties condo building: Thirty-five years in, businesspeople and celebrating couples still savor the cloistered privacy and conviviality. Meanwhile, a dinosaur like Nikolai’s Roof in the Hilton Atlanta putts along without much attention (though I do love its lower-level counterpart, Trader Vic’s).
In general, though, Atlanta’s most memorable skyline-height and belowground hangouts have more to do with good cheer than exceptional gastronomy. They set a mood, spark conversation, and serve potent drinks.
