Fresh, Flavorful Surprises
Tucked away a half-block from Highlands’ Main Street like, yes, a secret garden, The Secret Garden Courtyard Market serves up fresh selections every day. For more information or to place an order, call (828) 305-7509.
It’s probably a coincidence that we’re featuring The Secret Garden Courtyard Market and Modern Fast Food in our March Issue. It sure doesn’t feel like a coincidence, though.
Throughout this magazine, you’ll find paens to the arrival of Spring and its promise of fresh starts and the almost giddy sensation of freedom after the last two years of Covid restrictions.
The Secret Garden, tucked in the courtyard on Highlands’ Oak Street, is new on the local culinary scene and it’s offering fresh takes on classic bistro fare – soups,
salads, sandwiches, and tapas dishes made for quick sampling shares with your dining companions.
You can eat your selections inside, at a cozy counter space, or outdoors at the tables and patio chairs of the courtyard.
Though our visit was in the middle of February, Tricia and I managed to hit one of those glorious sunny days when the wind halts and you can almost taste Spring, so we opted to carry our selections to a picnic table in Kelsey-Hutchinson Founders Park.
There’s something about eating outdoors that sharpens the senses, and The Secret
Garden’s dishes ricocheted around our palates like a pinball.
We’d chosen The Basic Chick, a freshlymade chicken salad on a croissant; and The Porker, a beguiling concoction of shaved ham, Jarlsberg cheese, and pickles, slathered with homemade honey mustard and served on ciabatta.
Both were impeccable in their flavor and presentation. We ate with embarrassing haste and minimal conversation, which I suppose is the highest compliment you can pay a meal.
But let me step back from this and once
more focus on The Secret Garden itself. In addition to its daily selections of soups and sandwiches, the place is filled chockablock with gourmet items you can take home –soup mixes, dips, sweets and savories, exotic chips, and pickles.
It’s important to single out those chips and pickles. They were part of our take-out lunch, and they’re proof of The Secret Garden’s commitment to fresh, flavorful surprises.
Appearing alongside our sandwiches were the startling Carolina Kettle Southern Twang Salt & Vinegar Chips and Carolina Kettle’s Mama Gin Dill Pickle Chips. Both will challenge and enhance your understanding of Potato Chip Character and Taste.
And DJ’s Pickles’ Silly Dilly Pickle Chips?
Well, they’re loaded with fresh dill, slightly sweetened, and complimented by a touch of garlic and red pepper flakes. Pay close attention and you’ll detect just a hint of clove and turmeric. Who knew?
And Tricia opted for Unicorn Tears’ Mad Tasty Pure Sparkling Water. Now that may not sound special, but then you read the label and discover that it contains 20 mgs of hemp extract, which is as close to a walk on the Wild Side as you’re going to get one block from Main Street.
And at the center of all this is owner/ chef Rachel Lewicki. When she’s not in the kitchen preparing the day’s fare, Rachel is behind the counter, chatting with her customers and ringing up their selections.
But I mention her because she’s part of that precious community spirit that I
feared we may have lost over these past two years of Covid-cramped routines. It’s the sensation you get when you take a seat at The Zookeeper Bistro in Cashiers or Bella’s Junction Cafe in Scaly Mountain.
Rachel grew up in Highlands and she delivers all of that warm, local charm in generous dollops. You can chat about the day, exchange little bits of news and gossip, or just revel in the neighborliness of it all.
You can phone in your order at (828) 305-7509.
by Luke OsteenIt’s Brunch Time
The arrival of Brunch at Oak Steakhouse at Skyline Lodge is a cause for celebration. Reservations are a must – (828) 482-4720.
Over the years, I’ve told you about the virtues of starting your day with a good breakfast, echoing bromides by my sainted mother and the fifth grade science lessons of Mrs. Evelyn Delaney.
But in all those reviews, all those imprecations to enjoy this alltoo-rushed morning ritual, I never turned my attention to Brunch, breakfast’s more civilized and elegant sister, until the April 2020 issue of The Laurel.
Here’s what I said back then:
“Brunch is an invitation to savor the exquisite suite of palate provocateurs offered by the finest of breakfast and lunch choices.
“It’s a chance to share bites with someone you love; and a golden opportunity to kindle friendships at a large, loud table.
“I can’t recall a brunch crowd that didn’t feature lively conversations punctuated with explosions of laughter. It seems to me that brunch is a meal that’s an undeniable celebration.”
But here’s the thing – look at the date that those words appeared in print, April 2020. That means I wrote them back in mid-March 2020, approximately a week before the entire world slipped into a Covid-fever dream.
Taken off the table immediately were those dishes meant to be enjoyed amidst a boisterous table of friends. Gone were the freewheeling conversations and exchanges over Bloody Marys and Mimosas or, for a tea-totaler like me, a pot of English Breakfast Tea.
That’s why the news that Oak Steakhouse at Skyline Lodge was instituting Brunch on Saturdays and Sundays, 10:00 A.M. to 2:00 P.M, galvanized Tricia and me and our circle of friends.
Finally, finally, we could revel in the experience of languidly dining and sipping and mirroring the rich palaver of the Lost Generation. (Though there’re no Steins or Fitzgeralds or Hemingways among us –we’re closer to the Jim Gaffigan and David Mitchell and Sarah Milican school of expression.)
And fortunately for us and the rest of the Plateau, Oak Steakhouse’s Brunch sets the table perfectly for this exquisite interlude.
Let’s start with the dishes that kept appearing at our table over the course of two-hours: the singular Highlands Breakfast (Scrambled eggs, bacon or sausage, biscuit, and potatoes), Bubble and Squeak (an Anglophile’s dream of seasonal vegetables, potatoes and bangers), Mountain High Chicken Fried Steak (a tower of biscuit,
mashed potatoes, country sausage gravy, sunnyside eggs, bacon and chives), and, straight from Brooklyn, a Latkes Stack (salmon, whipped cream cheese, pickled red onion, arugula, bagel seasoning, and apple butter), Green Eggs & Ham Deviled Eggs (straight out of a storybook) and Breakfast Poutine (a hearty blend of scrambled eggs, cheese curds, bacon bits and sausage gravy).
Though there was nothing Small Plates about this tableptop composition, we embraced the tapas spirit and shared with one another. What a sweet blessing – a grace note that’s somehow survived these last two years.
The gears of all of this cheery conversation were lubricated by an extremely clever cocktail cart that was wheeled to our table. Bloody Marys were constructed with a concierge’s attention, and Mimosas were built with fresh-squeezed orange juice and Perelada Cava.
These creations put the “languid” in our brunch and sweetened what was already a celebration of friendships that wouldn’t be stifled by two years of isolation and covid-cramped distancing.
The Magic of Brunch
Our editor’s sweetheart snatches the keyboard from his cramped fingers and pens a review of her Brunch Experience at Fire + Water at Fire Mountain Inn.
Reservations are a must – call (800) 775-4446 or visit firemt.com.
Iam Tricia Smith, Luke Osteen’s partner, and I’m writing my third restaurant review ever, and it just so happens to be my third review of Fire + Water at Fire Mountain Inn.
You see, I’m passionate about the place, and the opportunity to visit them once more for their Sunday Brunch was just too irresistible to turn down.
I just don’t think he can adequately convey the magic of Fire + Water. And while he’s rhapsodized over the magic of brunch with a table of raucous friends, that’s completely different from what you can expect when you surrender to the gentle ministrations of owners Hiram and Mathew and their right-hand woman Breann. This is what I wrote in those glorious pre-Pandemic days:
“…It’s that very distance from the heart of Highlands that gives Fire + Water its undeniable tranquility. You’re instantly soothed. Part of
that is derived from the gorgeous setting atop Fire Mountain. The carefully landscaped grounds create a zen state and the view reveals the ridges of five distinct mountain ranges on the horizon. This was accompanied by the sound of water cascading down a beautiful walled fountain just a few feet from our table.”
Tranquility. Is there a more valuable commodity in this tender post-Pandemic season?
As you travel down the Dillard Road between Scaly and Sky Valley and spy the bridge construction, you turn left and climb up an unassuming road; a road to blissful Fire & Water and the meal of your dreams awaits.
You’re welcomed by Hiram and given a seat in the lovely dining room smartly designed in Mid Century Modern style or the outdoor patio. Either way, you’re surrounded with relaxing views and
fresh flowers. Hiram can make you a custom cocktail to start the gastronomical experience.
All the food is locally sourced and/or grown on site. Chef Mathew’s garden provides vegetables and herbs. No matter what you order, you are first impressed with the bright colors and freshness. Your visual first impression is followed by bursts of strategically arranged taste combinations that are sure to please.
Luke and I visited recently to try out the new Brunch Menu. I selected the Grilled Lemon Chicken Salad with Sliced Chicken Breast, steamed asparagus and red and yellow peppers and fresh thyme, herbed potato salad with little gem potatoes and a champagne vinaigrette, carrot cranberry slaw and finished off the meal with Fresh Berry Pavlova. Fire + Water’s version of this cherished dessert featured fresh blackberries, strawberries, and blueberries atop a dollop of meringue. Heaven on the lips.
Luke devoured the Cornmeal Crusted Trout and made a Happy Plate – no go-box for him.
Greetings from the staff are like getting together with old friends. Breann, attended us and kept our glasses full. Matthew created the
flavor – color, well-balanced creations that are simple and pure and fabulous. We greeted old friends and made new ones.
No longer under the restrictions of the pandemic, we loved every part of the dining experience and see a bright season ahead.
by Tricia SmithCulinary Journeys
The saga of Wolfgang Green and his eponymous restaurant has all the twists of a classic read.
For nearly 30 years, Wolfgang’s Restaurant & Wine Bistro has been presided over by its warm, hospitable host and chef, Wolfgang Green.
Classically trained (a euphemism for toiling 12 hours a day at low wages), Green learned his craft, starting in 1957 at age 14, at culinary school and working 12 hour shifts in a hotel kitchen in Chemnitz, East Germany. A forerunner of the times, the hotel’s Executive Chef was one of the first to make TV appearances – and Wolfgang, one of the 6 of 100 applicants chosen for the three-year apprenticeship, was tasked with assembling the ingredients for the show. It proved to be good training for what was to come. He remained with the company –albeit at another property – for a year after graduation.
In 1961, at age 18 he decided he wanted to travel and see the world. It was a decision more easily made then realized.
After World War II, emigration restrictions were imposed by countries in the Eastern Bloc, and those caught trying to leave were subject to heavy penalties. Wolfgang discovered that escape might be possible on a train that ran in a loop from East to West to East Berlin. Although heavily guarded, he reckoned that if he boarded the last
train, there was a chance he could slip past the sentries and disembark in West Berlin. And so, he did on August 6, 1961 – six days before the erection of the Berlin Wall. It would be 15 years before he returned to East Germany. For 10 days, he sheltered at a refugee camp before making a connection with a fellow “camper” who helped him secure work in Hamburg.
I know not what it must be like to flee one’s native country and begin again. Nevertheless, fearless and resourceful as ever, Wolfgang spent the next decades seeking new opportunities in the Western Hemisphere.
In 1962 he settled in Kingston, Jamaica, working for the Sheraton – learning English and the local patois while there. After two years and once again seduced by the allure of new challenges, he accepted work in Bermuda. Three years later he returned to Jamaica where he remained until 1974, when while working for Rosehall, the company transferred him to Memphis. It was during his tenure in Jamaica that he met and married his first wife and his oldest daughter, Sigrid, was born.
He assumed Executive Chef and Food & Beverage positions in
restaurants in New Orleans and Dallas and for a cruise ship line in Hawaii. He met his wife Mindy in Dallas in 1986, and they married in 1988. Their daughter, Kate, was born in Honolulu in 1991. When they returned to the mainland in 1994, they landed in Highlands and bought the old Hildegard’s. At the time, the restaurant consisted only of the back building – the single location on Main Street with a big front yard.
The family moved into the apartment above the restaurant and began renovating the restaurant, opening the space, adding tables and chairs and eventually a pavilion to the front. The menu was updated to include New Orleans specialties and more steaks and seafood were added. When liquor by the drink became legal in town in 2008, they built the building that is now the Bistro – offering “small plates” in addition to the full menu. A harbinger of the farm-to-table movement, Wolfgang early on populated his menus with ingredients from small, local farmers. They cultivated and curated and grew the wine list – recipient for multiple years of the Wine Spectator “Best of Award of Excellence.”
Decades running the restaurant has rewarded them with warm memories. They recall fondly the years they shuttered the restaurant on Halloween to celebrate Kate’s birthday, the events they hosted supporting local charities, and the renowned California winery
owners that visited the restaurant for wine dinners.
They are proud of Wolfgang’s work for the Rotary Club of Highlands (he has achieved the 6 Diamond Level), and the professional recognitions he has received – named Texas Chef of the Year in 1986, his inclusion on the Big D Texas Culinary team at the culinary Olympics in Frankfurt in 1988, and his work as a judge at American Culinary Federation competitions. But mostly they are proud of their two daughters – of Sigrid and her position at one of the “Big Four” accounting firms, Ernst & Young, and of Kate and her achievements working for BNY Mellon in Washington, DC.
by Marlene OsteenRe-Kindle the Good Times
The Fix Experience is a marvelous indulgence to sooth post-pandemic ruffled feathers and revive the nearly-lost tradition of languid dining (with dancing). Reservations are a necessity – call (828) 743-7477 or visit thefixsapphire.com.
It’s located at 3093 US 64 in Sapphire.
Over the course of the last two years of reviews, I’ve repeatedly touched upon the fragile state of social cohesion amid so many pandemic restrictions.
The notion of going out with friends for a meal and a celebration was shadowed with the faintest hints of unease. A lively table’s ebullience could be hushed by someone at another table enduring a round of coughing.
Our once-a-month meal and gossip exchange with our friend Sarah Harkins halted immediately and still hasn’t returned.
This was bad enough for me, but for my sweetheart Tricia, a storyteller and social butterfly of the first order, it took a true psychic toll.
And what would all this do to our little Plateau communities, which rely so heavily on the conversations and laughter that accompany our meals and adult beverages?
Well, I needn’t have worried – Tricia and I and a small group of friends were comforted and cajoled by The Fix Experience offered by
The Fix Restaurant, Bar & Lounge in Sapphire.
The Fix Experience is marvelously indulgent, a full seduction of the senses with a six-course meal prepared by Chef Jonathan Reid (complete with carefully calibrated wine pairings), an irresistible playlist by Doug Ramsay that served as both an accompaniment and an invitation to dance, and concierge-level attention delivered by servers Faith Hartle, Tanya Branham, and Amber Powell. And keeping the entire evening flowing smoothly was Hostess Erica Nicole.
Though my word count is limited by the constraints of an overstuffed July Issue, I really must list the dishes that kept arriving from Chef Jonathan’s clever kitchen (imagine that each has been prepared with care and attention to the details).
First Course: Sure Thing Oyster Progression – Oysters (one raw, one sweet mignonette, one baked), herbs, spinach, cress, lemon, foie gras, roasted red pepper, and foie hollandaise;
Second Course: Venison Carne Apache – Cervina venison, lime, caper, herbs, black garlic bone marrow aioli, cumin, bacon fat
crouton, mango & passion fruit yolk, and orange tuile;
Third Course: Silken Corn Coup – Corn, cumin, cream, curry, cilantro, crème fraiche, crumbs, and croutons (Hostess Nicole dared us to repeat that fast, five times – go ahead and try it right now!)
Fourth Course: Arancini – Spring peas, asparagus tips, fresh mozzarella, Gruyere, risotto, asparagus, and smoked bleu cream;
Fifth Course: Lightly Blackened Monkfish – Confit and crisped tri-color fingerling rounds, Sea Island red peas, natural gravy, herbbeet goat and gorgonzola griddle cake, and roasted red pepper beurre rouge;
And finally, the glorious Sixth Course: White Chocolate Bread Pudding – an ingenious blending of French bread, chocolate chips, white chocolate cinnamon crème anglaise. (Pro Tip: Save room for this masterpiece. You don’t want to haul this home in a doggy bag or, most horrifying of all, leave it untouched on the table).
But extraordinary as these dishes proved to be, the capper of the evening, what made everything swing and what restored my faith in the notion that we’d all come through the pandemic with our faculties intact and our social connections even stronger – The Fix Experience was jumping!
Conversations were lively, ambient laughter was raucous, and the music was truly an invitation to dance.
Even this reviewer dragged out his reliable Awkward White Guy
Rocking (a technique he learned his freshman year of high school) and was not laughed off the dance floor.
If you’re anxious to renew your pre-covid joy for life and re-kindle your good times spent with friends (and even with strangers – a fun couple joined us at our table!), The Fix Experience is your passport to the Good Times that were nearly lost.
Reservations are a necessity at the monthly Fix Experience.
The Fix Restaurant Bar and Lounge is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner Wednesday through Monday – and enjoy live music every Wednesday night.
For reservations and more information, call (828) 743-7477 or visit thefixsapphire.com. It’s located at 3093 US 64 in Sapphire.
by Luke OsteenGrand Olde Station
The Toxaway Community has always been close. From its earliest days when swells like Thomas Edison and Henry Ford would plan their getaways so they could “rough it” together (for clarity, their version of roughing it wasn’t the same as Mark Twain’s – let’s call it by its 21st century name, glamping).
My grandfather, who was the teacher at Toxaway School after he came home from World War I, said that people would gather at Po and Missa Galloway’s for a community meal and music (with some dancing, but not for the Baptists).
And of course, the homes that have sprung up all along the lake since the 1960s – from modest getaways to sprawling estates that are barely glimpsed from the road – they constitute a thriving, egalitarian community, where eventually everyone knows your name.
This helps to explain why Grand Olde Station, just 15 yards from the lake, is such good fit for this lively community.
Housed in the old Toxaway Train Depot, with a venerable Toxaway Fire Department American LaFrance Engine and a couple of vintage motorboats out front, this place is steeped in mountain heritage.
Inside it’s jammed with mountain ephemera, including a slinky stuffed fox and a ghostly mountain lion (perhaps in tribute to the “painter” that my grandfather said haunted the deep woods surrounding Toxaway in 1920-21).
But the clear callback to olde Toxaway’s social calendar was the crowd that built with our arrival at 6:00 P.M. on a Sunday evening. People poured in, and they were in a happy, celebratory mood.
Our server Gregory reflected the spirit of the dining room – he moved with confidence and a good-natured humor. Between the kitchen and bar and dining room, he was in perpetual motion, yet he never seemed stressed, let alone overwhelmed.
This comfy mountain décor and overwhelmingly positive atmosphere still doesn’t explain the filled-to-capacity dining room, though.
Let’s turn our attention to the menu and the confident kitchen that delivers on its promises.
We started with tapas-style Fried Green Tomatoes and Smoked Trout Dip served with pita triangles. Here’s an unimpeachable reference to Southern classics that were on the menu of the venerable Toxaway Inn.
Our main courses weren’t culled from an old mountain cookbook – Barbecued Chicken Pizza, Almond Salmon, and the thick and juicy Station Burger – but they’re in the running for modern classics.
They were all created with care, and my Station Burger was reminiscent of the backyard burgers that used to punctuate my summers. Somehow, I’ve lost the time and inclination to drag the old
grill out, so Grand Olde Station’s version filled something precious in my emotional equilibrium.
Well, I’ve squandered a healthy chunk of my word count, so let me jump directly to dessert – the rare and wonderful Cookie Skillet. Whatever else you’ve ordered and whatever drinks you’ve consumed over the course of your meal, you owe it to yourself to make sure this ends up in front of you.
Will a Cookie Skillet change the course of your life?
Of course not. But it will make you a better person – 37 percent better.
With its dining room filled with friends and neighbors, and its wise kitchen and its gracious serving staff, it’s clear that Grand Olde Station is a beautiful manifestation of what’s kept Toxaway such a tight-knit community.
Though Po and Missa Galloway are long gone, you’ll get the
impression that they’re still around, and they’re smiling. Reservations are a must – call (828) 966-4242.
by Luke OsteenPacked with Charm and Whimsy
Despite its name, Crossroads Custard & Coldbrew, located at 45 Slabtown Road in Cashiers, offers far more than sweet frozen goodness and coffee. There’s magic here, and the secret of Time Travel.
Are there taste sensations stored away in your brain pan that will not be diminished by the steady accretion of decades and the indifference you’ve paid to your mind and body?
The sort of emotional-sensory memory that can arrive, unbidden, as you’re drifting off to sleep, that’s so acute that it can make you gasp and issue a half-smile that’s as wistful as anything captured by da Vinci?
For me, there are a few dishes that can do that – my Mom’s Strawberry Pie, Basque Marmitako (served in a never-emptying bowl in my son’s adopted town of Pamplona), Mrs. Wilma Gordon’s stillwarm-from-the-oven cornbread in a long-ago supper at Highlands United Methodist Church, and, somehow, a Banana Milkshake. By way of explanation for the latter’s inclusion, let me supply a bit of context:
In the wake of my truly astonishing (even to me) grasp of the arcane mysteries of long division and the subsequent attaining of 100 on a big, big test, my grandmother, the estimable Mildred Hannum, responded by taking me (and only me, my sisters weren’t invited) to
Evan’s Ice Cream Parlor in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and treated me to a Milk Shake.
Mrs. Evans, the owner and chief scooper, turned this into a transcendent event when she told me that she could whip up a shake using any of the parlor’s 16 flavors – Moses parted the Red Sea, Lincoln freed the slaves, and a throng of angels acclaimed “Hallelujah!” – it seemed impossible!
This offer was made in Iowa in the midst of a gray, ice-locked February, so I naturally chose Banana. Banana seemed tropical and sweet. And sure enough, that simple Banana Milk Shake was a treasure, a grace note from the tropics and I could imagine that Jane would have served it at Tarzan’s Birthday Party.
Blend it in with the pride I felt at mastering the upper reaches of mathematics and the sweet words of my grandmother, and you have an experience to be archived and opened any time the world seems unfair or disappointing or indifferent.
Which brings us to Crossroads Custard & Coldbrew, found at 45 Slab Town Road in Cashiers.
It’s a cozy bistro that is packed with charm and whimsy and a generous dollop of playfulness, a spirit that extends to its vast, nearlyoverwhelming menu. Twenty-four flavors of sweet, sweet custard –sorry Mrs. Evans!)
Think I’m joking about that playfulness? Consider their Moon Pie Sundae – a deputy’s dream built upon a classic Lookout Mountain Moon Pie, warmed up and topped with vanilla custard, hot fudge sauce, strawberry sauce, whipped cream, and a crucial cherry on top. How’s that for a memory maker?
Still, through all the choices, there was no way I could resist the prospect of a frosty Banana Shake, crafted with care and delivered with a smile.
And the decades dropped away, and I was young and blissful and once more certain that the world held promise and such potential. Was it as good as what I slurped down on that frigid afternoon?
Nope – way, way better. The egg content of the custard gave the creation a richness of flavor and velvety consistency that was far superior to a simple ice cream-based shake.
Tricia ordered a Squatch, a thick custard frappe sweetened with agave and topped with strawberry, banana, almond butter, and granola – and into which was blended orange, mango, pineapple and guava!
She dove in despite the risk of brain freeze and made it all go
away.
And here’s the thing – as we were enjoying our creations and reveling in memories and sensations that reverberated through the years, Crossroads Custard was busy, really busy, with families with kids and families with grandkids and young couples and work buddies. And everyone was happy – some looking to decant memories of golden moments, others intent on memorializing this particular afternoon, when everything was just so, and the custard and the milk shakes and the smiles were as good as life could get.
by Luke OsteenDelicious Pub Food
The Dancing Bear menu at The High Dive (476 Carolina Way in Highlands) is marvelously seductive. But keep your wits about you – especially on Trivia Night.
Our visit to the High Dive on an electric summer’s evening was ostensibly a deliberate effort to evaluate the Dive’s new food truck service – The Dancing Bear.
But somehow the evening morphed into an unforgiving morality play worthy of Sophocles, with a few scenes lifted from The Odyssey. This tale of seduction and overweening hubris, just like those tales cultivated in the theaters and salons of BCE Athens, began in the most seductive of settings.
The High Dive, also known as The Highlands Dive, has become something of an insider’s getaway from the stresses of Plateau life.
We were there to sample The Bear’s menu of fine pub food and we were prepared to give in to our basest gustatory desires for deep fried, slightly messy fare.
And the Bear’s kitchen delivered in spectacular fashion – within a
few moments our table was groaning under the weight of a generous Cheeseburger; a deeply comforting bowl of Macaroni & Cheese; absolutely irresistible Warm Pretzels served with both Mustard and Melted Cheese; a basket of French Fries; and Chicken Tenders carefully battered and spiced.
Blissful.
And our Bartender Renata kept our table lubricated with a select Stout, a precisely constructed Margarita; a straightforward Gin & Tonic and, for me, a sweet Tonic.
So you see – my friends and I were being cleverly seduced into a gentle stupor, just as Odysseus and his hapless crew were truckled by Circe and her generous helpings of wine and cheese.
And here’s the thing – though we were sent to survey The Dancing Bear’s bill of fare on The Laurel’s dime, my friends and I showed up
on a Thursday night specifically to defend our first place standing on The High Dive’s legendary Trivia Night.
Jollied by that hard cider and buoyed by an early question about the size of late Cretaceous dinosaurs (about which, I know more than 97 percent of Plateau residents), I became infected with a dangerous strain of hubris
We blazed through three rounds of progressively tricky questions and at the end of regular competition we were securely in first place.
With the arrival of the Bonus Round, we elected to swing for the fences and bet everything.
And this is where this Trivial drama reaches its tragic denouement – we were asked to name the Capital of Wyoming.
Swollen with pride, I announced to my teammates that the answer was, of course, “Casper.”
My teammate Stuart (the same Stuart Ferguson who reviews local books in this magazine and an unimpeachable scholar in his own right) asked me not once, not twice, but three times whether I was
sure of my answer.
Without a doubt, I replied.
And, of course, the correct answer was “Cheyenne.”
So, a lesson proposed by the Greeks nearly 2,600 ago, and delivered once more by a visit to The High Dive: Whom the Gods Would Destroy They First Drive Mad with Delicious Pub Food and a Generous Barkeep.
by Luke OsteenA Wine Destination
A visit to On the Verandah proves to be the perfect mood elevator, thanks to a carefully weighed menu and a warm, sunshiny staff –1536 Franklin Road in Highlands, (828) 526-2338.
Boy, did we need a break. Tricia and I arrived at On the Verandah the first Thursday in September.
I’d ask you to cast your memory back to that particular stretch of time – when the entire Plateau was shaded and sogged by what felt like 37 days of driving rain and lowering skies, when even the otters at Lake Ravenel were considering a relocation to central Florida.
That’s why when we were seated on the airy porch that overlooks Lake Sequoyah, our spirits were lifted just a bit. And then when sunset allowed a panoramic burst of sunlight to transform that porch into something golden, you could feel the mood of the place increase by 67 percent.
Of course, that mood couldn’t be sustained if the kitchen were inattentive or the serving team was off its game, but On the Verandah came through, just like that unexpected September sunshine.
Tricia and I had settled on the tapas route, planning to load the table with a host of small plates – Fried Brussels Sprouts; Lobster Piccata; Fried Brie paired with Candied Pecans and served with Toasted Baguettes.
We balanced those selections with a pair of Summer Strawberry Salads, which seemed like the correct tonic for the week of depressing weather – Baby Spinach tossed with Strawberry Vinaigrette, Toasted Walnuts, Fresh Strawberries, and Feta Cheese. (See – doesn’t that sound just as cheerful as that blessed golden sunset?)
But here’s the thing – our carefully balanced dining plan was jettisoned by the unswerving cheerleading of our server Hailey –she flashed a 125-watt smile and charmed (coerced?) us into just considering the Entrees, and from then we were lost.
Added to the bill of fare – Natural Chicken, grilled and served with carefully-calibrated Chimichurri, Black Beans, and Yellow Rice; and
Fresh NC Trout accompanied by lemon-butter.
These were each exquisite and each paired with selections from OTV’s vast wine selection.
This is where that relentlessly cheerful Hailey came through again – it’s turns out she has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of OTV’s wine program and knew how to wield it.
Later, I did a deeper dive into that wine program and discovered why the staff was so warm and attentive.
It all comes down to the fact that owner/chef Andrew Figel treats everyone in the place like family. Every year, during the fallow winter months, he takes everyone on wine trips across the country – places like Sonoma and Napa and the Willamette Valley. They visit vineyards and explore the operations of dozens of labels.
And they’re little vintners, not the major corporations that are wrestling control of the market in unprecedented numbers. Owner / Chef Andrew Figel and his crew build personal relations with these operators and he’s stocked the restaurant with their exclusive vintages.
That explains the strength of On the Verandah’s wine list, and it also explains the marvelously comforting manner of the staff. They’re
treated like family, and those annual wine trips keep everyone knowledgeable and imbued with the knowledge that they’re valued.
If you’d like to experience the fruits of those wine trips and discover for yourself whether Hailey was paying attention on those trips, make reservations for On The Verandah’s Argyle Wine Dinner, set for November 11. It’s a marvelous six-course event, with dishes selected by OTV’s trio of sommeliers to perfectly match Arygle’s bubbly vintages.
Here for the Pizza
With its new menu, Four65 Woodfire Bistro + Bar once more proves that it’s mastered the rigors of a fast kitchen and a clever staff.
It’s located at 465 Main Street in Highlands.
When Marjorie announced that Four65 was unveiling a new menu, Tricia and I, and a small coterie of friends were the first in line to snag a table.
And can you blame us? Since it burst onto Highlands Main Street prominence with its hypnotic wood-fired ovens and long, sensuous illuminated onyx bar, Four65 has earned a place on the upper echelon of the plateau’s dining ecosystem.
Of vital importance to our party was the question of whether those Wood Fired Brussel Sprouts had made it onto the new menu.
Playing with our emotions like that, Four65! But there they were at the center of the glorious Wood Fired Brussel Sprout Salad, looking for all the world like a nursery of Audrey IIs nestled among chunks of Italian sausage, caramelized onion, and slices of tart Jazz apples. What a symphony! (And it’s testament to the fidelity of the kitchen team that the menu delineates the vinegar that underpins this creation – Oregon Blue Pedro Ximenez 25-Year Aged Balsamic.)
But unlike my dining companions, I was there for the pizza. In previous issues, I’ve sung paeans to the Four65’s fealty to this
noble ideal. Their pizza is an elevated creation that’s true to its Mediterranean roots. The tomatoes and basil are grown in the restaurant’s garden, the Bufala cheese is processed locally, and the dough is kissed by those impressive ovens for no more than 90 seconds. These pizzaiolos, whoever they are, have obviously spent years refining their craft.
Let me slip on my Scientist Chef Hat and explain why a Neapolitan Pizza is such a different creation from its New York style descendent.
When pizza began to be served in the Italian enclaves in New York City, cooks used coal-fired ovens to replicate that 700 to 1,000 degrees produced by those wood-fired stoves.
As natural gas became more economical than coal, these restaurants switched to gas ovens, which, since they couldn’t reproduce those scorching temperatures, required a longer cooking time for the pies.
Since the traditional mozzarella just couldn’t hold up over the longer stint in the oven, American chefs substituted shredded, lowmoisture mozzarella. To make up for the altered cheese formula, American pizzas were served smothered in layers of low-moisture
mozzarella, while Neapolitan pies are adorned with a light application of cheese.
The same Wood-Fire/Gas dichotomy plays out in the composition of sauce as well. The sauce of a Neapolitan pizza is strictly tomato and salt (in fact, it’s the law in Italy). Again, that simple recipe doesn’t hold up under the longer cook time of a gas oven pizza. The sauce of New York-style pizza is a blending of tomato, sugar, and garlic, with a dash of oregano, perfect for a longer cooking time.
See, those Four65’s wood-fired ovens ensure that you’re served authentic pizza, just like the individual pies that were crafted for Savoy’s Princess Margharita over 150 years ago. I promise you’ll sense the difference immediately.
As a result, their finished products are masterpieces of flavor and, this is critical, texture. The pinnacle of 200 years of Italian culinary technique.
At its core, the menu is what gives Four65 its irresistible bistro charm. The place can get noisy, even raucous at times, but it’s heaps of good fun, lubricated by the wise crew behind the bar. Of course, that atmosphere is curated by an attentive staff, and our server Kayla was exceptional – competent, confident, and bursting with gentle good humor. She set the tone for the meal with our introduction, and she maintained it with the careful application of her craft.
Well, once again I’ve gone too long, leaving scant room for the
desserts that we somehow managed to shoehorn in. I’ll just name them here and mention that they were, in their own right, showstoppers
– Dark Chocolate Walnut Brownie, Apple Crisp (made exotic and memorable with generous helpings of cinnamon and brown sugar), Olive Oil Cake framed with White Chocolate Ice Cream and Poached Peaches, and Homemade Gelato laced with Espresso that’ll light up your palate like an off-balanced pinball machine.
by Luke OsteenAuthentic Taqueria Fare
We made a point to invite our friend Jessica to our Saturday night meal at Las Margaritas.
It’s not simply because Jessica is charming company (which she is, of course) but because of her experiences of life in San Diego.
You see, when Jessica lived her life in that filled-to-bursting metropolis, she had discovered a little taqueria that served, in her words, “the best Mexican food on the planet.”
It was a tiny place – no tables, just a single drive-through window –and it would force her to drive 20 miles to get her fix.
Think of that – are there any dishes that could prompt your taste buds to highjack your sensibilities and drive across 20 miles of asphalt-girded San Diego traffic to achieve satisfaction?
So, there we were, ready to put Las Margaritas to the test with a friend who could sniff out a peacock from a field of puffins. Maybe it wasn’t fair to the kitchen and the staff, but that’s why I’m paid the Big Bucks, plus I’m pretty ruthless when I’m hungry.
We were promptly seated in the expansive dining room and quickly ordered a round of margaritas and cervezas. Of course, it’s important to stay properly lubricated when sampling a Mexican menu.
The margaritas were delicious and, let me pull out my Spanish Phrase Book, grande. Even the medium-sized ones were only slightly smaller than the hot tub at my old apartment complex in Asheville. Were I daring enough to order a large, I’m pretty sure I’d have ended up doing the backstroke in the pond behind the restaurant. Happy, but supremely stupid.
It turns out, South of the Border is a lot closer than you imagine –Las Margaritas, 127 64E in Cashiers.
But the proof in the pudding – or let me again pull out my Phrase Book, the verdict in the flan – would of course be the products of the kitchen.
Our table groaned under the bounty.
First up, Pollo Loco, a sublime blending of grilled chicken breast topped with onions, rice, beans, and melted cheese; followed by Molcajete, a spectacular pile-up of ribeye steak, chicken, shrimp chorizo, melted cheese, cactus, onions, and jalapeños; and the endlessly surprising Pollo Dolce – grilled chicken, zucchini, onions, bell peppers and mushrooms, all served with rice, pico de gallo, cream, and mango sauce – if someone at your table orders this, see if they’ll share with you!
And of course, Jessica’s Tacos – a trio of corn tortillas loaded with pastor (marinated pork) laced with cilantro, onions, radishes and cucumbers. Her verdict – this is as close to authentic taqueria fare as we’re ever going to get in this corner of Western North Carolina.
Plus, you don’t have to drive through 20 miles of So-Cal traffic to enjoy them!
Las Margaritas is located at 127 64 East in Cashiers (the same location as the late, lamented Randevu). You can also order takeout at (828) 743-6900.
by Luke Osteen