The Olde Pink House

 
The Olde Pink House was a highlight of my time in Savannah.
In 1771, Habersham House in Savannah, Georgia, welcomed its builder and owner, James Habersham, Jr., and served as his family's home until 1800. Its soft brick eventually began to bleed through the plastered walls and changed its color from white to Jamaican pink. The house has had several reincarnations. In 1811 it became Planter's Bank, the first bank in Georgia. General Sherman gave the city to President Lincoln as a Christmas present, and the house became a military headquarters. During the Civil War it was an attorney's office, a bookstore, and a colonial tea room. Finally, in 1992 the Balish family from Charleston, South Carolina, purchased the stately building and returned it to its original grandeur for the enjoyment of all who visit and dine in this most fanciful, mystical structure.
 

     Every room of this mansion is a dining area, each with subtle differences in decor, yet always part of the whole splendid Georgian manor. The main floor is all classic refinement. You just have to feel romantic in this environment. Two other floors provide more dining areas, one called "the ballroom" is long, elegant, and sparkling with chandeliers. Smaller rooms have a slightly more rustic look as the glossy banquet chairs turn into bulky straight back leather ones. The basement is a dark, casual area called Planter's Tavern with exposed aged brick walls, a rough-cut stone fireplace surrounded by large wingback chairs in distressed leather, and a piano for live music. In back of this room is a small intimate space outfitted for a sexy dinner for two surrounded by endless bottles of wine and illuminated only by candlelight. It's actually a wine cellar that originally served as the money vault during the house's reincarnation as a bank. The space is inviting in an eerie way. Some say the house is haunted by the ghost of James Habersham, Jr. If so, I'm pretty sure this is where he hangs out the most. I would.
      I began this journey with a Planter's Punch, a cocktail of Papa's Pilar dark rum, Bacardi rum, pineapple and orange juices, and grenadine. John ordered the Service Brewing Company Compass Rose IPA, a local beer with infusions of grapefruit, pear, and orange peel. He's on a citrus kick these days. Even when he can't identify a flavor, he calls it citrus. My drink was deceptively gentle. It turns out the rums settle at the top and the bottom of the drink, so while I sipped the fruity liquid, it was quite benign, but as I reached the middle of the glass, I felt the heat of the alcohol in every skin pore, in a good way.
   
     The basket of table bread was a promise of good things to come. It contained dainty little corn bread muffins, warm, meaty biscuits, and soft, moist rosemary bread.
     The feast began with the Habersham Platter, a combination of shrimp and grits, a crab cake, and seared scallops. The grits were noteworthy because they came in the shape of fried triangle wedges which provided a crispy covering to the expected creaminess. Crab cakes are tricky for me. Most of the time they are either too bland or contain unwelcome hot spices. This crab cake was perfection, and it came sandwiched between two slices of tangy fried green tomatoes, a popular selection from the menu. And the scallops were thick and juicy, and left you wanting more.

     My entree was the Sweet Potato Ravioli with caramelized Vidalia onions and oyster mushrooms, finished with a pecan cream sauce. The sauce made this dish. It offered a perfect balance of sweet and savory and a distinct flavor that complemented the subtlety of the sweet potato in the pasta.

     If you're a foodie, you know that feeling you get after a luxurious feast that ends in an equally glorious dessert. The House didn't disappoint. Good ole' Southern pecan pie done with flair on a cinnamon pecan crust, with dark chocolate, served warm with vanilla bean ice cream. Let me tell y'all, that dark chocolate gave this pie a vitality of flavor unmatched by any other pecan pie I've ever tried, even others of the chocolate variety.

     Before I wrap, I must take time to write about the service at The House. Our server was amiable but professional and so knowledgeable about the history of the building, she should be a docent and give guided tours. She invited us to roam to our hearts' content after dinner, and when we did, I felt we were in everyone's way as we weaved around the bustle of servers on every floor. I found myself apologizing every few seconds, but every employee was gracious, eager to make space for us to explore, and willing to answer questions with a smile.
     I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I want to go back. I want to live in that house, really. When I return, my problem will be deciding on whether to repeat the luxurious experience of the upstairs restaurant, or explore the dark, mysterious Planter's Tavern in the basement. All my problems should be this delightful.

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