As a North Carolina native planning a move to Chicago next fall, it's difficult for me to resist making comparisons between my much loved but slightly countrified state and the international metropolis that is the City of Chicago (note: North Carolina has no real cities, just glorified towns). Some comparisons are merely differences, bereft of any competition to sour the other. For example, North Carolina boasts the bluegrass, folk-influenced music scene that gave birth to greats like Doc Watson, Earl Scruggs, Charlie Daniels, Warren Haynes, and the Avett Brothers (of more recent fame; if you haven’t heard their stuff I highly recommend it) ((and if talking of North Carolina musicians, please don’t mention Clay Aiken to me)), whereas the Chicago jazz-blues scene is unrivaled. Different flavors, like comparing apples to oranges. But when it comes to comparing food…well, the Old North State shows its age next to the energetic and ever-changing Windy City. Now, before
Allen & Son enthusiasts jump on me, I have to acknowledge that barbecue is one thing we do well… and by "we" I'm referring to one or two long-established places in a region where barbecue means “slow-cooked-over-wood pork”, not a style of cooking, as defined in other areas of the country. But find me an international experience like Xni-Pec or a transporting-indulgence like Pasticceria Natalina, and I’ll turn down my job offer in Chicago and move back into my parent’s house in Raleigh to eat my words (and Natalie's transcendent cannoli) for the rest of my days.
That being said (and I apologize for the long-winded introduction; this being my first post I got a little excited) every now and then I am pleasantly surprised by a restaurant in Chapel Hill or Raleigh that, IMHO, could hold its own against food in Chicago. Last night was such an experience. My roommates and I treated ourselves to a night-out at the downtown Raleigh restaurant
Enoteca Vin. Nestled in the trendy but hit-or-miss Glenwood South neighborhood, behind Hard Times Café (a chain that brags of its four runny chili-esque mixes and could not be more appropriately named), Enoteca Vin is unpretentious in a location that is known for in-your-face flamboyance. And the food?
Our meal started with the butternut squash bisque with caramelized onions and a single sherry crouton, which came plated as a giant toasted French-bread round soaking in the middle of the soup, with the caramelized onions arranged in a nest on top. Most butternut squash bisques that I’ve had fall far short of expectations as over-pureed, bland insults that lack any sort of autumnal personality and whose texture is best described as “mush”. The bisque featured at Vin, as it is informally known, was thick in consistency and pleasantly toothsome, and while the butternut squash flavor was certainly at the forefront, the addition of caramelized onions was a revelation.
We each ordered a separate main: Sarah the brown-butter scallops with lobster cream, tarragon, and mizuna; Catie, the braised leg of lamb with mascarpone polenta, stewed tomatoes, and NC squash; I the mero (a Japanese white fish) with braised green beans and spaghetti squash. Each dish came elegantly plated and joined in two respects, the first being the presence of pungent, dark red tomatoes, the second the pleasant sense of fall that pervaded every dish. And each was excellent; the lamb meat falling off the leg, my mero flaking delicately in the mouth, the scallops rich and satisfying, and the vegetable sides as fresh and flavorful as if plucked just before preparation. And no wonder, looking at the pedigree of Vin’s chef, Ashley Christiansen, who has studied under the likes of Andrea Reusing, owner of Chapel Hill’s acclaimed
Lantern, a fusion of Japanese-style cooking and seasonal and local NC ingredients. Both the Lantern and Enoteca Vin are a tribute to local North Carolina farmers, and excellent food. My dinner made me realize in my lust to get to Chicago I’ve been too hasty to judge my home state. And while not convinced enough to make a permanent return to my childhood home, there will be more than enough gastronomic adventures to keep me busy until next year.
We finished our meal with a shared El Rey molten chocolate cake with nutella ice cream. I also ordered a Lillet Blanc on ice, perhaps not the most appropriate pairing with this dessert, but as a personal nod to things to come. Lillet was recommended to me by Pigmon long ago, and serves as my current signature drink and name-sake on LTH. The cake and ice cream arrived as two distinct entities separated on a vast expanse of plate along with two carefully measured circles of dusted cocoa. I mentioned to my dinner-mates the presentation resembled a Martian landscape and, though not quite out-of-this-world, this sweet ending was a delectable reminder to keep myself grounded and enjoy my roots, one last year.
Last edited by
lillet on December 2nd, 2007, 4:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"In the end, of course, there are no moral foods—unless we count soft-boiled eggs."
- Woody Allen