Young Guns Dinner at The Root

Last week, Santa (and my friend Andy) made me a very happy eater. I'd been reading about the Young Guns dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, The Root, and right after the event was announced Andy asked me to accompany him. "I need someone to go with who knows what pancetta and head cheese are," were his exact words.

We got a snow storm that night, of course. I would've made the trip in a dog sled.

The beautiful restaurant- exposed wood, actual tree branches decorating the place- was packed with people who are just so much cooler than I am. I had actually had oat bran for breakfast that morning. There's nothing cutting-edge about me.

Our amuse buche was presented by our server, who knew her stuff. She, too, was cooler than me.

marinated mussel, brussels sprout sauerkraut, kentucky bourbon barrel ponzu

I told Andy that I would be happy just eating 87 of those in a row. Then out came our first course, which was from chef Nikita Santches from Rock City Eatery in Hamtramck (which of course I've been eyeing since it opened.)

animal broth, roasted malanga, edos, moqua squash, kohlrabi, 5 minute egg, togarashi pork ear crackling

Malanga, edos, moqua squash, and kohlrabi are all root vegetables, which were roasted. The animal broth (what are we having for dinner, mom? animal soup) was a combination of stocks made from different types of protein. Imagine the most badass vegetable soup you've ever had.

smoked beef tongue, raj masala cucumber riata, mint, coriander chutney, pickled carrot

Don't shy away from beef tongue. It's like a thicker, tastier piece of bacon, which was topped with the most delicious carrot I've ever had in my life.

bouillabaisse, cod, smoked taylor bay scallop, shrimp and pork belly gyoza, lobster miso nage, pickled lotus root, uni foam

This course was Andy's favorite and my first runner-up. The nage (the broth) was so thick with flavor that it almost seemed like a puree. The cod was the most perfectly cooked piece of fish I've had, with a crunchy sear and completely tender in the center. The gyoza (a dumpling, the black piece in the photo above) gave the dish just the right amount of spice. I'm inspired to step up my Christmas Eve cioppino game.

texas grapefruit, spanish olive oil, lemon dust, lillet granita, micro cilantro

Even the palate cleanser was unbearably light, fresh, and perfect. But saddle up for what's coming next.

celery root agnolotti, short rib ragu, mushroom conserva

I never order pasta at a restaurant. I'm convinced that I can easily duplicate most pasta dishes at home with minimal effort. Heck, I can boil water. So how hard can pasta be?

This was my favorite course of the meal. The agnolotti, kind of like a loosely wrapped ravioli, was so smooth. The short ribs fell apart in my mouth. The chef who created this dish will open his restaurant in Detroit in spring 2014 and I might pitch a tent out back.

boudin noir, potato fondant, cabbage, apple gastrique

When the server said "boudin noir," I had just the slightest twinge of anxiety. I'd never had blood sausage, and I'd wager a guess that most American eaters haven't either. But I always say I will try anything, so long as it's a normal thing that people eat (Anthony Bourdain I am not.)

This sausage's mild flavor surprised me. The filling wasn't completely cohesive to the casing- that's to say that when I cut into the sausage, the two parts came away from each other and I could taste them each separately. It's entirely possible that this was a standout blood sausage, but without experience in that arena it's impossible for me to say.

olive oil cake, rosemary & local honey, pinenut & burnt orange brittle, sangiovese sorbet

After a knock-down drag-out meal like that, a light dessert was perfect. I haven't had peanut brittle since I was a little girl, sneaking it from my grandmother's December candy bowl down to my brother and sister while we shot pool in her basement. The pinenuts gave this brittle a more sophisticated flavor. "It's sticking in my teeth," said Andy. "But I'm kind of happy about that."

While we digested both the food and the incredible atmosphere at the restaurant that night, we were given a plate of the tiniest, most delicate espresso and chocolate truffles on chicory cookie crumbs. To die for, and if I haven't convinced you to drive the 60 miles from Lansing to White Lake by now, you must hate eating. They're throwing an Italian Feast for New Year's Eve, and some buzz words from the menu include truffle, branzino, duck, and dark chocolate. I would wear these stupid glasses again for that kind of food.

Who am I kidding. I loved those glasses.

Young Guns 2 has been announced, but if you don't already have tickets, you ain't gonna get em. If you DO have tickets, consider me green with envy.

 

The Root, Part Three

My hankering for the fresh, reasonably-priced food at The Root had reached critical mass. I'd wake up in the morning and wonder how I could come up with a breakfast that would look and taste like something I'd find at my new favorite place. As I thought about it I would drive to work and scarf a Tupperware container full of oatmeal or yogurt and fruit, because my culinary dreams infrequently become reality.

I stopped in for lunch one day, and although I was immediately drawn once again to the scallops, the waiter told me that they had a special salad for lunch that day. Halfway through his description I was nodding like a bobblehead and told him that I would like the salad, please, and 400 pieces of bread.

Spring mix, yellow and red halved cherry tomatoes, chopped avocado, thinly-sliced radish, pickled onion, scallops and chorizo, avocado-buttermilk dressing, cracked black pepper.

I was trying my best to listen to the ladies next to me talk about Houghton Lake, because they seemed to know about a restaurant there that isn't on my radar and should be, but I couldn't lift my attention from this salad. I want to eat this everyday.

The avocado was creamy. The radishes were spicy. The greens were crisp and, after I ate this salad at warp speed, I dragged a chunk of bread across the plate so I wouldn't miss a speck of anything. The combination of scallops and chorizo was decadent, a combination I'd not thought of before and haven't stopped thinking of since.

The Root, Part Two

Several weeks after my birthday dinner, it was time for me to head back to The Root for round 2. This time I was alone. I left work on a Tuesday evening and drove down the street to the strip mall in which one of Oakland County's best restaurants is oddly situated. I requested an outside table and sat, enjoying my Bon Appetit magazine and the conversations of people around me. I'm an eavesdropper, and I don't care who knows it.

This time, I started again with the scallops. They're too good. 

I just don't understand that white bean puree. It's got the consistency of hummus and lacks flavor. Maybe it's just there to anchor the dish and provide a little texture to the plate? In that case, job well done.

I followed my scallops with the watermelon salad.

Peppery greens, blue cheese (which I requested instead of feta, my mortal enemy), paper-thin radishes, pickled onions, sesame seeds. All my old friends. I felt so sophisticated, sitting and enjoying dinner alone. Eating a watermelon salad, no less, and savoring every bite. Then I dropped a bite of buttered bread butter-size down on my skirt and lost my whole attitude.

The Root, Part One

I have a red Moleskine notebook that has an alphabetized list of the restaurants I've got my eye on. I pore over Detroit Free Press articles and blogs and frequently jot down names of recommendations that I get from other enthusiastic eaters. The Root has been on my list since it was named the Detroit Free Press Restaurant of the Year in 2012. Although for months I'd worked a measly 1.5 miles away, I never had the gumption (or the time) to have a meal there alone. I generally don't think twice about eating alone, but I thought this one might be an experience I wanted to share.

So I bided my time and, apparently, talked the boyfriend's ear off about my hankering for The Root. When my birthday rolled around in June, he met me at my office on Friday evening to take me to dinner. As we sat at our beautiful table and glanced over the menu, my best friend and her husband surprised me and met us for dinner.

I chose the tasting menu, and as I debated between the crab cake and the scallop, the manager approached our table with 4 plates, which she doled out to each of us. The boyfriend had emailed the restaurant, telling them that we were coming for my birthday dinner and that I'd been researching their food and looking forward to my first meal there for months. I'd heard raves about The Root's scallops and was relieved to be relieved of deciding between those and crab cakes.

 Although the white bean puree didn't add much to the dish, the grapefruit was a stroke of genius.The scallop was juicy and flavorful and melted in my mouth. While I was in a swoon of ecstasy, the next plate rolled out- a crab cake, topped with a corn chutney.

The chunks of crab were large and loosely held together, the way I like my crab cakes. It didn't taste like breading or batter, it tasted like crab. The taste was immense. I'd venture to say that this was the best part of the meal. 

Another highlight of the meal was the buttery ciabatta brought to the table. I might have eaten two pieces of it.

 Ok, I definitely ate two pieces of it, requested more, and packed it up to take home with me.

My second course was The Root Orchard Salad. Appetizer-sized salad this was not, and I was presented with a lunch-sized portion of fresh Michigan products- greens, apple, almonds, bacon, blue cheese. I knew that space in my stomach would be at a premium, but I couldn't control myself and cleaned my plate. 

For my main course, I chose the trout. Roasted fingerling potatoes are one of my favorites, and although these could have been a touch crispier, I sprinkled them with a little sea salt and went to town. The fish was fresh, topped with a tangy ancho honey glaze. It sat atop what the menu advertised as creamed spinach, but which in actuality was fresh spinach, lightly wilted and punched up with cream. I appreciated that, as I like vegetables in their natural state, not doused with a heavy sauce.

As I looked around and saw my sweet boyfriend, my best friend, her newlywed husband to whom I paid homage in my maid of honor speech at their wedding, and a table topped with presents, my heart grew two sizes. I think my stomach must have also grown a couple of inches, because when our waiter asked if we had room for dessert, there was no question.

I chose the blondie. It was vegan, which I don't care about, but it mercifully didn't taste weird and hippie-ish. I had my birthday blondie with a cappuccino.

The waiter then informed me that a complimentary dessert awaited me. I took the cheesecake home and ate it the next day. Upon my first bite I realized that the crust was made of crumbled chocolate cookies, and I sighed in complete satisfaction.