1 of 15
2 of 15
3 of 15
4 of 15
5 of 15
6 of 15
7 of 15
8 of 15
9 of 15
10 of 15
11 of 15
12 of 15
13 of 15
14 of 15
15 of 15
'The Catbird Seat” is one of those florid phrases (coined by brilliant humorist James Thurber) you don't hear often enough, used to describe someone who has reached a pinnacle, a position worthy of envy. The Catbird Seat is also a tiny gem of a boutique restaurant set above the Patterson House speakeasy on Division, the latest brainchild of Max and Ben Goldberg. Seating only a few (with seatings every 15 minutes), it allows the privileged few who've garnered an online reservation an entry into a challenging culinary world, where deep, marvelous flavors explode the senses, even the simplest teasing as you quest for that singular note you can't place.
My evening began with a tiny piece of local lichen with a sprinkling of powdered porcini mushroom. It dissolved on my tonguedry and crisp, an amuse bouche with uncanny texture and delicious, slightly salty flavor. It only got better.
I visited The Catbird Seat with Katie Horrell, Errine Garnett, Liz Daniel, Lauren Lackey and our freelancer Carla Stokes. There are only six because six is the maximum that can be accommodated at a table in restaurant that only seats 36 at a time. We have a corner booth with a delicious light fixture over our heads, branches of gray iron ending in jar-like bubbles of glass. We're almost done with this issue, we've been running like mad and so far the most delicious thing about the evening is downtime. That changes with the first course we're served.
Most guests sit on creamy leather barstools around a dark, U-shaped kitchen bar allowing them to watch and interact with gifted chefs Josh Habiger and Erik Anderson. White walls and modernist decor by Landy Gardner give it a 1940s feel, balancing the 1920s vibe downstairs. Forget menus. The meal, usually seven courses, is prix fixe ($100 each), with three beverage possibilities: non-alcohol($20), standard ($30) and reserve ($75). If your budget runs to it, I recommend the reserve; the wine and beverage pairing are exquisite. Each course is an unexpected melange of elementsvisual aspects illicit comments along the lines of 'Oh, that looks like fall!” The total effect means blending the flavors on the plate with those in your glass, with presentation adding another layer of sensory experience.
We start with the amuse bouche, paired with a yellow Chartreuses and sherry cocktail in the cutest shot glass ever. Then comes a 'snack”a scallop chip, the tiniest of radishes with seaweed butter, an another chip thats the refined essence of Nashville hot chicken, complete with dill pickle salt. The courses keep coming: A soup that embodies autumn, with chestnut, milk and honey and chanterelles, plus lovage and hibiscus leaf, paired with bubbly Normandy Cidre Bouche Brut E. Dupont. The most perfectly poached hen's egg arrives in a white onion bacon emulsion, so creamy you can barely eat the whole thing for dying of richness, paired with fizzing Domaine Huet Vouvray Pétillant, with a nose of roses and lilacs. (It delighted Liz.)
A trio of entrees stuns: Fresh cod wrapped in kimchi with avocado puree, coconut powder, kiwi and watermelon (Lauren's fave, with an off-dry Riesling to die for); an exquisitely pressed duck with butternut squash puree and an 'autumn” roll of spaghetti squash and Asian spices (with Alsatian Gewurztraminer); then a beef short rib with a hint of black truffle and farmers' cheese, with a Domaine de Durban Beaumes-de-Venise Muscat. Lest you think all this smacks of writing food porn, I assure you, it's not so. The art of Catbird Seat comes from feasting the senses while charming modern American palates into remembering the heights of what taste can be. A trio of thoughtful dessertstiny and focused on intensity of tastefinished us. The final beverage tasting, a 2008 Royal Tokaji Àts 'Mad” Cuvée in a glass rinsed with Black Maple Mill Bourbon, was almost too much of a sensory experience in itself. Someday, I want to drink this without food, beside a roaring fire as I watch leaves fall. Of course, the vanilla cake with Bulleit Bourbon encapsulations, cool cherry sorbet (or smoked oak ice cream) and a cherry crisp (Erik and Josh reinvent uses for a food dehydrator that make me long to own one) wasn't a bad note to end on.
Make no mistake, The Catbird Seat is like nothing else we have in the city. It challenges your food concepts. Those looking for a straightforward big steak probably want to retreat to Kayne Prime or Ruth's Chris (no shame there). But should you want your dining experience to teach you about flavor in the same way tasting fine wines or ports do, want to be left as enlightened a trip to the Frist and as exhilarated as a Predators game, well then, go online and make reservations at The Catbird Seat. thecatbirdseatrestaurant.com