All too often, the vegetarian option(s) at non-vegetarian restaurants can feel like afterthoughts.
“You know the vegetarians are gonna want to eat something.”
With a few notable exceptions, it feels as though there is a grilled chicken breast sized hole in many dishes, leaving a little overdressed lettuce and avocado leaning unfulfillingly against one another in the center of a mound of under seasoned quinoa or like protein packed super grain.
It’s for that reason that there’s something incredibly special about well executed ingredient based dishes that have a vegetable at their heart. When done well, the essence of that ingredient is honored and everything added is for its mounting glory. It’s perilously easy to blow the balance by adding one component too few or too many. A good cook is ever in search of the perfect harmony.
There’s a near sterling example of such a dish to be found at the recently opened Grow Restaurants outpost in Italian Village. There will be many words written regarding Cosecha (Yes, that’s Spanish for Harvest) in the near future, and I’m certain a lot of tweaks made to the food as they settle in; the fryer seemed to be running a bit cool on my visits, leaving a bit more oil in the food than likely intended.
However, I think it will be difficult to surpass what I feel is already a standout dish in a city of many tacos (some might say too many). Chef Silas Caeton has made what I hope is quite a statement of intent of food to come with a humble sweet potato. The menu does the vegetable the honor of plain description while in no way attempting to fancy up the dish with flowery words. You’ll get exactly what you order. Well, nearly, as I’d perhaps take issue with the “caramelized” descriptor.
Every component of the dish stands to edify the sweet potato at its center; sometimes in a surprising way. The honey, carefully applied, subtly enhances the sweetness of the soft flesh and mimics the missing caramelization. Obvious crunch and nuttiness come, predictably, from the almonds strewn atop the dish. Dots of Cloverton Cheese, my favorite of the Laurel Valley Creamery offerings, adds a needed acid kick and richness simultaneously. I’ll admit to some skepticism upon seeing dry chamomile flowers on a plate. I crushed one between my fingers wondering if it could possibly have been a good idea to sprinkle dry “tea” on, well, anything save a mug of hot water.
One bite soothed my concerns. The next made me a believer. The dry flowers seemed to have been lightly toasted, imparting a delicate and floral textural crispness to the dish; serving to make the good great without being in anyway overpowering. This is a dish in which all of the ingredients play their parts, standing up for themselves while making this simple potato more than it likely ever aspired to be.
