Occupying the former home of VZD’s, Raven seemingly has some big shoes to fill. As a different concept entirely, it’s no surprise that the vibes inside are in stark contrast to its predecessor, but admittedly, it still caught me off guard the moment I walked inside.
I’d heard whisperings of people here or there who had already tried Raven and was eager to get my own taste. And while I waited for a table, I took in the changes to the space. In direct contrast to my previous visits to VZD’s, Raven offers a cozy, warm atmosphere with the makings of somewhere you’d be happy to spend time inside on a wintery evening.
As warm and inviting as the interior is designed to make you feel, standing and waiting for staff to acknowledge your presence, especially when you have a reservation, has the opposite effect.
I’d like to clearly state that none of the servers or bar staff were inherently rude, and as someone who previously worked in food service, I have the utmost respect for those in the restaurant industry — so much so that I’d rather needlessly overtip than ever leave a server feeling like I was anything less than a polite customer. However, I felt my social anxiety skyrocket with each minute I stood at the restaurant’s entrance, likely looking akin to Vincent Vega awkwardly loitering in Mia Wallace’s foyer in that one scene from Pulp Fiction.
Once seated, I was eager to get the culinary show on the road and see what flavors Raven was capable of. With a claim to fame of local produce and a chef with a farm-to-table background, Raven’s menu changes frequently.
I started with something simple: hot olives and grilled bread. Admittedly, I wasn’t sure whether “hot” referred to “spicy” or “warm,” and while I couldn’t say I was thrilled at the thought of a plate of warm olives, I thought I’d give it a try. I was pleasantly surprised when the dish arrived. Thinly sliced and grilled bread was accompanied with olives that turned out to be very warm, but not spicy. While extremely simple, what struck me about the dish was actually the olive oil, which was drizzled across the bread slices and served as a foundation for the olives themselves.
Olive oil is one of those ingredients that you almost don’t even notice, but it’s immediately clear when you’ve had good, quality olive oil — enough to make a difference when you inevitably have to go back to your usual grocery store brand. I can assure you, my friends, this was quality olive oil.
Next to arrive to the table was an order of two lamb chops, or Castillos as the menu calls them. Truthfully, the two chops were not created equal and were both quite small. However, the one chop cooked closer to perfection than the other was a delight to eat. (Let’s not talk about the sad chop.) It was topped on this day with cranberry compote and mint, and my knife sliced through its tender meat with ease. I found the cranberry to be a nice complement to the subtle succulence of the lamb. While I don’t typically reach for an entrée-like meat as a middle course, I can see its appeal to stave off lingering hunger until any mains arrive.
Texture tango
The oxtail mac n’ cheese followed, accompanied by an order of Pommes Anna, or for those of you unfamiliar with the classic French dish, thinly sliced potatoes cooked in butter. As a quick disclaimer, I’ve got quite the love affair with both macaroni and cheese (done right) and potatoes, so the chances these two dishes would crash and burn for me were low.
The first bite into the potatoes was a satisfying tango between textures: Buttery soft potatoes from the middle of the dish paired perfectly with the surface’s crunchier slices. While not a complex dish or particularly exciting, it had me coming back for forkful after forkful, almost as if it had my mind in a trance. That’s the true power of butter.
But my favorite savory dish of the night was the oxtail mac n’ cheese. I’ll state right now that it was entirely too salty, a fact that disappointed me greatly. However, even with a
heavy-handed Salt Bae impression, I couldn’t help but eat every last bite.
A testament to how creamy a macaroni and cheese dish should be, the cheese sauce wrapped around each al dente piece of pasta like they were made for each other. The oxtail on its own was tender and bursting with flavor, but nestled into a saucy bite of pasta, it doubled down on the warmth of this elevated comfort meal.
If you were to tell me that the only way I could enjoy this dish again was if it was just as salty as it’d been on that night, I’d still happily accept.
I know I’m meant to think of dessert as a sort of afterthought in these types of establishments, especially with several protein options on the menu starting at $40 and climbing. But the bread pudding was by far my favorite part of dinner. Sourdough bread pieces steeped in maple bacon butter and topped with Chantilly cream, every bite was like experiencing the peak of breakfast bliss. Breakfast for dessert might not be for everyone, but I’ll just take all the portions meant for the naysayers. I know it seems like an exaggeration, but it was one of my favorite desserts I’ve ever eaten.
It’s hard to encapsulate one dinner with a singular opinion after such a contradictory experience. While thinking back on the social atmosphere gives me pause to return, the thought of the cheesy sauce and decadent dessert has me considering another visit. All in all, I think Raven is worth a try, albeit one where you’re not in a hurry. Maybe I’m too quick to be won over by a good carbohydrate, but there’s just something about Raven that makes me want to root for its success.
This article appears in Stitt’s Top Ten.