Grace 17:20's American cuisine succeeds in many ways, but it tries too hard to move mountains
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 12/07/04
GRACE.
Faith.
Jenni Girtman/AJC | |||
| The ahi tuna tartar appetizer has a nori 'chip' flavored with wasabi and comes in a large helping of tiny cubes of buttery tuna. | |||
Jenni Girtman/AJC | |||
| Prince Edward Island mussels are served over creamy, corn-flavored Anson Mills grits — offering a fabulous twist on the shrimp-and-grits theme. | |||
|
Faith the size of a mustard seed is how Matthew 17:20 goes.
Perhaps a little or all three — grace, faith and mustard seeds — are what go into the menu and makings of grace 17:20 in Norcross. Pedigree comes to mind as well, since the restaurant's managing partner, Barbara Di James, and the executive chef, Charles Schwab, have formidable culinary backgrounds. She polished her people skills at Sia's, and he is a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park, and honed his technique at Bacchanalia.
They've set up shop in a tony new shopping center called the Forum, nestled next to Spa Sydell and Linens 'N Things. The Forum is a faux-Main Street outdoor shopping mall that has all the warmth of an Epcot theme park replica of what every Main Street should be, but isn't: clean, pristine and perfectly manicured. It doesn't seem particularly real or seem to possess anything other than cookie-cutter character. But why should anyone care if they can grab a crab cake and cappuccino between pedicures and new pumps?
It seems, then, that a restaurant of grace 17:20's caliber would be better suited to a neighborhood where it could eventually take on the personality of the community and become part of residents' daily lives. In the end, that is what grace lacks most: its own identity.
Oh, believe me, it tries. The menu is a textbook example of modern regional-American dining, and Schwab's cherry-picked selection of Southern American ingredients is fresh and uplifting. The décor of hardwood floors; streamlined, earth-toned upholstery; and the occasional well-placed antique (real or otherwise) give it a beautiful but innocuous, unintimidating feel. The service is beyond attentive. A side patio, complete with working fireplace, looks like Tuscany until you realize your view is of the parking lot.
In many important ways, grace succeeds. Schwab knows how to give seasonal ingredients priority. A hearty, thick-cut pork chop, on the bone, served with super-sweet collards and even sweeter sliced apples proves noteworthy, even if the pork chop is a little tough. A smooth (save for the mustard seeds) stone-ground mustard sauce tastes so bracing, yet comfortingly rich, it would be just as fabulous smeared on a napkin.
Prince Edward Island mussels have the same effect, proving an intelligent twist on the ever-present shrimp-and-grits theme, served over creamy, corn-flavored Anson Mills grits. And a crab cake as appetizer comes to the table unapologetically misshapen, the lump meat barely holding together because of the blessed lack of bread crumbs. Instead, there are just feathery lumps of meat with little more to season it than salt, pepper and the butter it was pan-seared in.
Beyond these, Schwab's focus gets a little fuzzy, making an Asian-inspired dish like ahi tuna tartar seem dreadfully out of place with the rest of the offerings. A funky nori "chip" flavored with wasabi falls flat in an overly large helping of tiny cubes of the pink, buttery tuna in the bottom of a large white bowl.
And an eggplant bruschetta is cold, with blue cheese and golden raisins adorning the bread but no discernible eggplant. Seared diver scallops get so busy with extras of ravioli, sautéed escarole and a more-than-needed dose of butter that you lose track of the fact the scallops are actually plump and downy inside, perfectly seared outside and that the nutty astringency of escarole is a perfect mate for them.
Nowhere on the menu is there more lack of personality than the desserts. They are a little like the dumb blonde stereotype: easy to look at and initially pleasing, but after a while you just need more substance.
A little temptation like grace's chocolate mascarpone tart is the exception — it is as smart (in a dark, creamy chocolate sort of way) as it is pretty. A pecan turnover satisfies a hankering for something sticky sweet, especially with a marked but welcome contrast from tangy goat cheese ice cream. Ultimately, though, this dish just tries too hard to be good — a sin a dessert should never be guilty of.
Norcross needs a restaurant like grace 17:20. It is sophisticated yet inviting and offers an upscale alternative to the ubiquitous strip mall offerings that dot the landscape of Peachtree Parkway.
I just wish it, like that pecan turnover, didn't have to try so hard to be good. Perhaps real grace — like faith — need only be the size of a mustard seed.
Become a fan of accessAtlanta on Facebook »
Get the latest news on ajc.com and wsbtv.com
Best of the Big A »
- Nominate: Best Thanksgiving-to-go
- Vote: Best place to bike
- Winners: Favorite local blogger

