The Dish on Dish: Acanthus Restaurant

Food Editor Michael Vivar gives new North Side restaurant a standing ovation.

My love for the North Side knows no bounds. I am among the first to shout its virtues from the rooftops. One aspect that contributes to this affection is the Boggs Mansion, now The Inn on the Mexican War Streets. I’ve spent countless neighborhood gatherings laughing and imbibing with friends here. Despite this inherent fondness, I can say with not a hint of bias or doubt that the quality of their new restaurant, Acanthus, has robbed me of my meager ability to speak as a mature adult. OMG, dude, this place is, like, sooooo awesome. LOLZ

Our reintroduction to this beloved establishment began in their newly opened martini bar in the main house. The former boudoir had been converted to a posh sipping room that was well stocked and cozy without being cramped. The granite bar, substantial wood stools, and fine crystal had me looking over my shoulder every so often expecting a Rockefeller or other captain of industry to come glad-handing his way through the room. In the midst of our pre-dinner drinks, we were served an unexpected pair of hors d'oeuvres. Canapés filled with firm roasted and spiced tofu and savory empanadas made us feverishly expectant of the upcoming seven course meal. After an interval that whetted our appetites, we were shown through a courtyard, while expansive and striking, could have benefited from some heat lamps in a cold night. Past this was a dining room set in what wasonce a carriage house. Within were tables impeccably set with silverware and wine glasses for each course. It reminded one of a rural hunting lodge.

The first course consisted of an amuse bouche of buttery corn madeleines topped with smoked trout and crème fraiche. Merely a tasty mouthful, its status as a tease could have turned into a maddening taunt were it not for the prompt presentation by our meticulous waiter, Chris, of the appetizer, Acanthus Pirogues. Pirogue in name only, it was caramelized onion sandwiched between light and flaky pirogue pastry and potato pancake drizzled with a thick buerre blanc. It was accompanied by a crunchy triangle of baked wonton skin which we dipped into the buerre blanc. Were it not for this, we would have given in to the urge to lick the sauce directly from the plate.

The fish course was a pan-seared red snapper. Encased in a thin seasoned skin, the tender fish found a wonderfully bittersweet complement in a blood orange vinaigrette. This was the first truly substantial portion of the meal, but not so much so that our craving for more was blunted.

The intermezzo gave us a welcome pause to relish the miasma of deliciousness with which we were quite willingly assailed. A sweet jewel of frozen red grape enshrined in a wedge of slightly sharp queso blanco readied our taste buds better than any common strawberry sherbet could have.

After this culinary sigh of appreciation, Katie had her staple, filet mignon. Its caliber was on par with what we had already experienced with a fine marble. The starch of herb gnocchi with butternut squash was a trifle overdone, but the relatively soft texture went well with firm asparagus tips and a heavy shitake cream sauce.

I had the veal osso bucco, which was the only slight misstep to be found. I’m used to an osso bucco shank with marrow in. I was served very good but de-boned veal meat that was tender, but could have done with more fat. Speaking to the chef later, she indicated that a larger shank of meat didn’t really fit the spare aesthetic of her presentations. While I can understand this vision, I think in this case she should have chosen to forego form for function. This came with a chestnut risotto that had more of a porridge consistency than pasta, but it was delectable nonetheless. It was also served with brussel sprouts. I don’t eat brussel sprouts. In fact, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of brussel sprouts. So, no, it didn’t come with brussel sprouts.

Following European tradition, our penultimate course was a salad. The chiffonade of Napa cabbage, grapefruit, cashews, raspberries, sprinkled with a warm rosemary shallot vinaigrette was another bittersweet dish that nicely settled our stomachs from the previous courses and cleansed the palate for dessert.

The final treat was a chocolate mousse eased into a cornucopia topped with fresh berries on a vanilla bean sauce. Its staging in a horn of plenty was a fitting allegory for a completely delightful meal.

At $75 per person, prix fixe, this superb meal along with the fine atmosphere is a bargain at twice the price. I should also mention that Katie had the wine flight for another $25. Whoever paired the wines for each course is like unto a god among sommeliers. So what are you doing still reading this bloody ramble?

Make a reservation. Now.

Acanthus Fine Dining at The Inn on the Mexican War Streets, 604 W North Ave, 412-231-6544.