Milton's Cuisine & Cocktails — Restaurant in Milton

Loretta was her name, and devilled eggs were her game. Best read this with Miles Davis' Summertime playing in the background.

It was going to take more than our party of 9 hungry office workers out on a retirement dinner to bring this menu down, but sometimes you don’t get a choice. That’s how the game is played and sometimes the restaurant game plays you. It started on one of those hot & humid evenings that the South is so famed for. The sun was setting when we arrived at a parking lot full of cars and a noisy restaurant full of the local gentry disguised in their finery. A gaggle of thirty women on a bridal shower had taken over a whole wing of the place with excited shrieks and shrill cries of hunger. No waiter would come away from that room without a concussed ego. I knew we were in for a long night. You could feel it in the teary thickness of the air. We had barely sat down that we got served ice cold water and a menu each. That’s when I saw her: Loretta. She was our waitress for the night and what she said, she meant. We took turns at ordering. Loretta captured it all, and our order soon came to us like a revelation. The tangy & sour old fashioned with smoky bourbon. The tasty savoury starters of devilled eggs, the signature cheese dip, and the unmissable fried green tomatoes. It was all there for the taking. Loretta interrupted my forking reverie. It’s pronounced 'tomAtoes'. Where the heck you from? In an instant the mercury plummeted, and the table froze over. Spain”, the boss stammered with the kind of initiative that only gets you into deeper trouble. What kind of a country is that?” She asked. And at this point none of us knew. “You better make sure they tip well in Spain.” She added before walking off to dish out another unsuspecting table’s sassy starter. A minute later she returned, and as if to make a point she threw down a plate of free shrimp fritters like a gauntlet. Bet you don't have them in Spain.” Actually, we do. They’re called…” but she had already walked off. ‘Damn she's good’, I thought. ‘I can't handle the boss like that. Maybe I should walk off mid-sentence too.’ Others around me were making similar and dangerous calculations as they made polite work of the fritters. ‘Loretta knew how to work a table better than the best of’em.' I thought. 'She'd be a killer in the corporate-verse.’ My mind quikly drifted back to the very satisfying sesame crusted mountain trout with buttermilk mash and asparagus. I chewed on through my thoughts, and my dinner disappeared like snow on an Atlanta sidewalk. I made fast fork work of it before anyone asked to try my dish. There wouldn’t be any sharing tonight. Mama didn’t raise no fool. Slowly the tables around us began to leave and the noise of the merriment dimmed. People left with satisfied grins and full bellies. Soon enough it was just us and Loretta. Who’s up for a dessert?” She asked, and we all knew a trap when it’s sprung our way. Our hands went up, and I made my biggest mistake that night when I ordered the wrong item. Who goes to Georgia and orders Crème Brûlée when there’s carrot cake on the menu? Rookie error. But then, I never saw it coming when Loretta pulled an extra slice of carrot cake from the kitchen and lit a candle atop it. I confessed right there that her carrot cake was way better than mine; rich, dense and almost crispy on the outside, a heart dripping with buttery goodness inside. I hear somebody here’s getting retired”, she said, and we froze wide eyed mi- mouthful. Nobody spoke. Instead, we sang like birds for David’s a jolly good fellow, and our laughter that night was defeated by southern hospitality, great food, and an unmistakable twang of sadness because this would be our last dinner altogether. Loretta made it unforgettable. The beer and bourbon helped. I pushed my empty plate away, replete with the knowledge that southern food is the stuff of dreams whilst Loretta laughed. She knew we wouldn’t be back. Some meals are only meant to be eaten once and then you...

I don’t know if it was an off night or just our experience, but I’m disappointed that our first time at Milton’s didn’t compare with the many five star reviews others have given. Our food experience definitely didn’t live up to the many five star reviews and our service was painfully slow.

Our evening started out well, first with the valet and then being immediately seated in a lovely room that looks like it can be converted to either an open or enclosed porch. The room and the table settings were both lovely as is the restaurant itself.

We arrived at 5:15, just after the restaurant opened. The room where we were seated had a few other diners, but was still mostly empty, as was most of the restaurant. We then waited for over fifteen minutes before our waitress came to our table. She introduced herself and asked if we were ready to place our orders. I found it interesting that no suggestions or recommends were offered, even though I knew that Milton’s was running a special on Prime filets that night, she didn’t mention it, and it wasn’t on any of the menus. I asked about it, and she confirmed, and we placed our orders. We both ordered the 9oz. filet and asked for a warm red center, not pink, but red. Our waitress told us that at Milton’s a warm red center would be considered medium rare. We also ordered 3 sides. She asked if we wanted bread, and that was it, she was off.

We didn’t place any drink or appetizer orders, just the entrees for two and the three sides.

The wait for the meal was quite extended, and only once during the wait did our waitress pass and say our meal was coming soon. When the meal did arrive, nothing was really hot, just warm. The steaks were both warm to the touch, not quite hot enough to even really melt the duxelle-truffle butter, and they were both pink in the center, not red. Because the steaks were excellent quality, they could handle being somewhat over cooked, but we would have much preferred them to be as we had ordered. Even the tomato on the plate, I thought would be grilled or charred, was just a tomato with an herb sprig stuck in it. We had also ordered asparagus, which were excellent, just not hot. Mashed potatoes, which were just warm, and we found over salted. The Jalapeño Bacon Cream Corn, we found inedible as it too was just warm, very salty and was more of a purée. Who knows, it may have had less of a baby food consistency if it had been hot?

Honestly, by this time we had been waiting for food for over an hour, so we didn’t dare send anything back. We ate the steaks, asparagus, and a bit of the mashed potato. The waitress noticed that we didn’t eat the Jalapeño Bacon Cream Corn and she asked if we wanted to take it home and I said no thanks. She asked if there was a problem and I just said it wasn’t to our liking. To our surprise, when she brought the bill, she had taken that item off, so thank you Milton’s!

From the time we entered and were seated, to the time we got our bill settled, was 1:45. We entered a pretty empty restaurant 15 minutes after opening time. We did not order drinks, appetizers, or dessert. We did not make any special requests, or send anything back. We ordered only 2 steaks and 3 sides and it took 1:45 and nothing came out hot and after being very specific about how we wanted the steaks cooked, they were over cooked. I really, really wanted to love it, but I left so very disappointed.

Highlight of the night...when we walked out to get the car from the valet, we didn’t even have to hand him our ticket, he just remembered us and before we got down to his stand he was pulling our car up! Bravo...

We had an early (6pm) reservation for dinner for our anniversary. Our daughter made the reservation and snuck a couple of diversions into the mix. The outfit she works for is part of the same hospitality group, and she knew folks at Milton's that could make things happen. Milton's is partially housed in a restored barn, about 150 years old. We were seated right away. The hostess was pleasant and professional. Our server seemed to teleport to our table. You lok up, and there she is. You think you need something, there she is. Perfect. She had secrets, so she was almost giddy when she arrived. She brought a lovely little arrangement of sunflowers and a beautiful red gladiola from the small garden outside the restaurant. The flowers were accompanied by a card from the GM and other staff that took such great care of us. Melanie, our server, slipped away and returned with a bottle of champagne. While we caught our breath (and had a wee sip of the bubbly), Kevin (the GM) showed up with an amazing charcuterie board. It was like a salad bar, half the size of the table. Smoked Gouda, parmigiano/romano, a nice cheddar, prosciutto, copicola, grapes, strawberries, pepper jelly. I'm sure I've forgotten something. By the time we decided to order, I was ready for a nap. Amazing. My wife had their meatloaf. Griund veal, beef, pork, and bacon, with a wonderful glaze, broccolini, and Gouda mashed potatoes. I went with the grass fed Delmonico Ribeye and a giant salt roasted potato. We added an order of local mushrooms (like we needed more food). Everything was just as we ordered, and even better, it was exactly as we expected. The wife made progress in her meatloaf. I struggled to get an advantage on the steak. The steak won in fairly embarrassing fashion, but my leftovers were still 5 stars. As we surrendered to each individual course, Mattie whisked away the dishes and boxed everything professionally. When we surrendered to the last dish, Melanie asked if we were up to a dessert challenge. I looked at the missus, and there was NO doubt. She asked for the carrot cake, and I selected the crème broûlée. Perfect ending to a perfect experience. I have to thank all of Milton's staff, but most of all, our brilliant server--Melodie, the magician--and Mr. Chris, the overseer. The grande surprise was our daughter had arranged payment and gratuity. What an event for a $10 dollar tip for the valet.

Please make arrangement to visit the amazing place in Milton/Crabapple/Alpharetta.

J 7/26/2025 Milton's 7/272025...