Big Jones or Big Johnson?

Yall know bout those Big Johnson tees. About 15 years ago, all the heads who didn’t buy Senor Frogs or Hypercolor gear rocked this dumb shit. Regardless of the fact that it was slightly entertaining; it was just a guy who boasted a big dick and was able to get away with anything because of it. Thing is, this skinny ass douchebag probably DIDN’T have a big johnson. I think the time is ripe for Andersonville’s three week old Contemporary Southern Coastal Cuisine dine house Big Jones and ya boy Johnson to pull they pants down. Don’t be claiming southern if you ain’t gonna do it proper.

First thing I noticed was that the joint was too clean…where was the sweaty, fat black cook named Lester? What about Grandmama with stank breath and rollers in her hair? The buss-boy was some hipster with a Ryan Seacrest-like fauxhawk who scowled at us when we said hello.

For appetizers we got the Pulled Pork Grit Cakes (Niman Ranch pork shoulder, crispy grit cakes, Cakalack sauce & slaw) and Crab Salad Deviled Eggs (Lump blue crab, deviled eggs and chow-chow with Johnny Cakes and a light vinaigrette).

Both were fantastic “contemporary” interpretations of Saturday Night Fish Fry classics, but from here, we rolled expediently down the cow pasture into a pig pin shit storm.

No. We didn’t get the baby back ribs or the pork chop special. This was our opportunity to test Big Jones’ endowment and see how far their southern creativity could reach. So we got the Etouffee z’ Herbs (Crimini & shiitake mushrooms, gumbo roux, eggplant and greens on Louisiana popcorn rice) and then the Brunswick Stew (Braised rabbit loin in a delicate gravy with crisp bacon, corn and butter beans).

Now, Ive had plenty of Etouffee and I know its supposed to be smokey, but that doent mean that is supposed to be as bland as white folks kool-aid. My grandfather made a killa Brunswick stew, so I’m a tough critic. And although the meats were juicy and tender, the “stew” portion of the plate was a simple afterthought. It’s Brunswick STEW not Brunswick Stew. I wanted to doggie bag both these dishes, take them back to the nest and apply excruciating amounts of salt and hot sauce.

And then it was time for the night cap: Hot Toddy and Mississippi Mud Pie.

Well, lets just say that our server was not very cooperative. In fact, he was a dickneck. When we asked for honey-a key ingredient in toddy-the dood had the audacity to bring out SIMPLE SYRUP. Daaaang mang. Don’t Big Jones serve brunch? And isn’t honey a main condiment in brunch (i.e. buttermilk biscuits and honey)? Just take the “southern” out of your name if you ain’t got some honey at the servers station. Simply redonkulous.

The pie was aiight, but took 20 minutes to be brought out to the table and I’d swear it was some Cosco out-the-box shit. And when it finally arrived, it arrived partially burnt. The oven must have been on broil instead of warm.

So pull those draws down Big Jones, and let me see what you’re really packin, cuz a majority of your food preparation and service certainly didn’t leave me with no love jones.