(I figure if on occasion I get paid to write film reviews, I can
probably write amateur restaurant reviews then. If "write what you know" is at
all applicable, well, then restaurants are what I know.)
Restaurant Zola
For Christmas I was lucky enough to win a $50 gift certificate to Zola, a Mediterranean spot named Best Restaurant in Nashville three years running (Nashville Scene’s Readers Poll). It was a gift from [the place where I work], which is a sister restaurant to Zola. I’d heard nothing but the most incredible things about the Best Chef winner, but had only ever been in through the backdoor. (As a hostess, sometimes I’d have to pick up creme brulee or Genache chocolate cake from the pastry chef, who supplies [the place where I work] with a couple of our desserts.) I was thrilled to win the gift certificate in that drawing, mostly because I could never afford to eat there on my own, but also because their menu is well-known as vegetarian friendly, even winning third place for Best Vegetarian Menu. In fact, a more strict vegetarian co-worker of mine asked if he could trade the certificates we each won. He won his to Patrick’s, a Cajun restaurant. But I wasn’t about to give up a meal at Zola (named in Gourmet Magazine’s Top 60 restaurants in America) for a lackluster, fried-up po boy.
Since I love little more than a fancy night out at a new restaurant I could hardly wait to indulge in some fine wine, a provocation or two (their name for appetizers), followed by a rich dessert. I waited just two weeks before making a reservation for 8 p.m. on a Tuesday night. It wasn’t difficult, I called the night before and had my choice of slots.
I studied the menu online the night before, thinking in advance about what I might want to devour. After considering the grilled hot pepper shrimp with pistachio jam filo, mango coulis and a ginger chili drizzle, as well as the pistachio-crusted salmon on ginger grits, with pear carrot coulis & pomegranate apple yogurt I decided I couldn’t decide while looking at a computer monitor.
We arrived promptly at eight for our reserved table and entered to find the lobby spacious for a place that has less than 25 tables. The host greeted us warmly as if she’d been waiting for us to arrive. She probably had, there were only six seated tables in the entire room. But the dining area is divided into two rooms, the one nearest the window was where that night’s patrons were seated, so it didn’t seem so empty. The boyfriend and I were shown to a small table against the wall. It was an adequate spot, since a window seat would have only afforded us a better view of the Honey baked Ham store next door.
I was impressed with my surroundings, but not overwhelmed. The decor looked sort of disjointed. Bland. Crowded, yet completely empty. Perhaps it was the lack of bodies. I did very much like the swaths of sheer, billowy fabric that were draped between ceiling banisters creating a lush, cloud-like covering.
We were presented with the menu, which was short and reflected almost exactly what I’d seen on the website. At first glance I was disappointed with the selection. Aside from two completely vegetarian entrees, everything else (besides the salmon for pesco-vegetarians, like me) contained some land animal that would be difficult or detrimental to the dish to remove. However, our server saved the day by describing the evening’s seafood specials, which my date and I both ordered.
To begin the meal we decided on the Caprese Katafi, a delectable combination of basil, pine nuts and two cheeses baked into crispy filo threads surrounded by a smoked tomato sauce and herb vinaigrette. The rich but delicate filo strands were a wonderful contrast to the thick, creamy cheese, but the appetizer was really made exquisite by the most flavorful tomato sauce I’ve ever had the pleasure of putting into my mouth. I could have eaten that sauce with only a spoon. After consuming every last morsel of the dish I was absolutely sure we’d made the right choice.
With the Caprese Katafi gone too soon, our palates were piqued for more. Our friendly, yet timid server brought around a large lovely woven basket with two options inside: spinach and cheese stromboli or some fruit raisin twist thing. Stromboli was the obvious choice to accompany the light olive oil and fresh cracked pepper she’d just presented us. The bread was hot, fresh and moist, but not outstanding in flavor, maybe because it was preceded by the orgasmic Caprese Katafi.
I enjoyed more of the pinot noir I ordered while waiting for our entrees. Unfortunately the wine list on the Zola site is out of date and I don’t remember which wine I ordered. It had a lot of As in it. Perhaps the name didn’t stick with me because I wasn’t overcome by the wine. I picked something blindly, mid-ranged in price, and while it wasn’t at all bad, it didn’t have a good finish and the ending is my favorite part of wine.
Our entrees arrived and soon began the moaning. I ordered the porcini-dusted scallops with walnut pesto and sauteed spinach and a light, fluffy puff pastry filled with (yet again) more cheese. And every bite was a tiny miracle. I rarely order scallops since they are rarely even who they say they are. And if they ARE actually scallops, they are rubbery or tough. But no sir, not these. The scallops were so good I immediately think of cliches like, "as tender as butter" or "they melt in your mouth," because THEY DID. They so did.
The flaky, slightly buttery pastry was airy and its texture was exquisite paired with the Manchego cheese inside it. The spinach was dressed with a creamy bechamel, I think, which was livened up by the super fresh walnut pesto.
The boyfriend ordered the rare ahi tuna with a barley beef risotto and sauteed snap peas. I cheated and tried a bite of his and found the heavy, earthy flavors complex and immediately satisfying. Still, I was glad I got my perfect, sweet scallops.
The entrees were generous in portion, especially for something so well done. Reducing the plate size by 1/4 would still be adequate, but I was grateful for every mouthful. I wasn’t about to pass up dessert, so I soldiered on toward the spiced pear upside down cake. My coffee was brought in a large, hand-painted ceramic mug, the kind often found in coffeehouses. I complimented the server on them. The coffee left a little to be desired, but the mug kept it very hot at least.
The cake arrived and was a lovely finale to a fantastic meal. The pears were ultra-sweet and tender as if they’d been marinated in nectar or juice. The cake was sumptuous combined with homemade whipped cream, though it wouldn’t be hard to replicate the recipe at home. I wish now we’d ordered something more complicated.
Including a generous tip our tab for two including only one glass of wine was nearly $100. It is easy to spend lots of dollars at Zola, but if you plan on splurging this is the place. In Nashville, for those with epicurious tastes, you’d be hard pressed to find better. I’ve been thinking about those scallops for days.