After decades of fine dining, my wife and I hit a wall a few years ago. All the high-end…read morerestaurants (not just in Atlanta but everywhere) seemed to either be formal "fancy" dining with boring menus and crazy high prices, or chef-centric places more interested in showing off the kitchen's chops than providing an enjoyable experience for diners. We'd rather find a hole in the wall on Buford Highway. But with a big anniversary coming up, we thought we should go someplace nice. I chose Avize because the menu looked much more interesting and cohesive than any of the other fine dining options I checked out. I was not disappointed. It was one of the best meals I've had in Atlanta in years. Service was very attentive though, admittedly, we were one of only a couple of tables. The sommelier spent a long time with us discussing our tastes and recommending options before settling on a funky and delicious bottle from a small producer in France. For the first course we ordered venison tartare and ramp and morels three ways. The ramp and morel dish was a showcase, though the venison was probably the star of the evening. For mains I got the fermented carrot Bolognese. Delicious and well-executed, though probably less adventurous than the name suggested. The lamb definitely showcased the chef's skills, with four or five different cuts and preparations on the plate, but focused on flavor rather than showiness. We also shared two sides. The tartiflette - a cheesy, bacony potato dish - and fried artichokes in a delicious pesto cheese sauce. There were no disappointments. Every dish was inventive, beautiful, delicious and reminiscent of our time in Switzerland and northern Italy. It's also worth mentioning that the portion sizes were just right - we left full but not stuffed. Total came to under $300 including wine, tax and tip, which is quite reasonable for that level of food and service (the tasting menu is quite a bit more). All in all, it rekindled my hope that fine dining can break out of its rut.

Avize wants to bring the Alps to West Midtown, and, on the plate, it mostly pulls it off. North…read moreAmerica's 50 Best. We came in ready to be transported. The mains earned it. My steak was right, and my wife's fermented carrot bolognese was a complete thought--the dish you only get somewhere willing to take the swing and connect. But the openers were too clever by half, at least in execution. The North Georgia trout carpaccio came out like Swedish Fish. The peach salad arrived with prepubescent peaches. We were checked out enough by the end to wave off dessert. Then the actual room reminds you what a top-50 actually bought you. The dining room ran cold, so my wife asked for a blanket. She was told there were two, both taken, and that requests to buy more had already been refused. Read that again. A top-fifty restaurant rationing blankets like wartime supplies. She ended up flagging a woman on her way out for the one she gave back. The Alpine, immersive, cared-for experience--outsourced to a departing stranger. The service lost the thread early and never found it. Ninety seconds after taking our drink order, our server asked whether we'd ordered drinks. Later, wine had to be flagged down, and when it arrived he couldn't remember what we'd requested. And the fruit flies. At our table, and--for thematic consistency--in the men's room. Fruit flies. At No. 29 in North America. The kitchen can clearly cook. But you don't crack a top-fifty list to ration blankets and split the room with fruit flies. To Avize: I hope the night I had wasn't the same one you think you're putting on.