Cheap Eats - Divan’s smokin’ (but not too tasty)

Located along a meaty stretch of Buckhead’s culinary landscape, Divan offers mezze — small plates that litter the backdrop of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean social gathering. It also offers a scene in which to be seen.

Little House on the Piedmont: Any foodie worth their fleur de sel will recognize Divan’s address; this two-story cottage once housed critically fêted Bacchanalia. And as a haven for contemplative prix-fixe palate titillation the house served well. But as a cocktail cantina, it has lost some magic. First, there is the unnecessary valet parking lot directly adjacent. Downstairs, a full bar and communal tables reside in a pomegranate-, mustard- and black-hued room. The upstairs dining area houses an awkward clutter of undistinguished tables and floor fans that circulate the window unit’s much needed relief from the heat.

Smoke Screen: Not that Big Tobacco needs any support, but if any executives are cruising Google and come across this, here’s a hint: Smoking isn’t totally out of fashion, it’s just dying to be refashioned. “Turkish Blend” isn’t exotic enough; options such as honeyed apple, cappuccino and pomegranate are the, well, flavors of the day — at least at Divan, when pulled by couples and groups through a $15 hookah (half-price from 6:30-7:30, Tues.-Sun.). While extracts are swell, and opium or hashish isn’t likely to be offered anytime soon, perhaps a genuine herbal fruit blend might be a nice option — although it’s unlikely the pomegranate flavoring retains any of the fruit’s precious antioxidants.

Regardless of the health risks (hookah water partially filters tar and nicotine, but it’s still smoke), water pipes were the dish du jour on a Friday evening that became increasingly animated as the crowd puffed up. Notably, no option was offered on entrance of whether to sit in a hookah or non-hookah section, so be prepared to inhale someone else’s smokin’ (good?) time.

Smoked Out?: Maybe hashish is making it into at least one hookah. One evening a server lackadaisically took food orders while steadily grinding gum and taking the occasional seat with friends. No real opinion of the food was put forth, so dishes randomly sampled included lamb kabobs, tilapia and herbed rice, hummus and tomato, basil and mozzarella fresco. The menu tells no lies and also holds no surprises. These are blunt renditions (save for a bizarre pudding-like “chocolate cheesecake”) of nondescript Middle Eastern standards for drinkers and smokers, even only of tobacco. Meat fares the best, because even bland meat still helps fill the void. A few dozen wines by the glass (including some offbeat Lebanese, Turkish and Moroccan varietals), as well as cocktails, including a signature pomegranate martini, are available for the parched. Also offered are Mediterranean beers, such as Efes Pilsener, Turkey’s predominant lager that has dry cereal and green straw components (think Miller Lite, only thinner). When in the mood for something vaguely citric, even in this heat, a preferable option was Turkish coffee, redolent with lemon.

All around Divan, thrill-seeking gaggles appear to request hookahs even before food (the opposite of native tradition). As indicated by the clientele, Divan’s formula may depend far more on multi-culti twentysomethings’ pipe dreams than hunger pangs.