When I heard that Nonesuch was making a comeback to the Oklahoma City food scene, I was intrigued to see what it had to offer. I’d loosely followed its story of new ownership, new branding and a new take on the restaurant’s identity but hadn’t yet made my way to see what they’d done with the place.
As someone who was desperate for even a taste of elevated culinary offerings in what was once a “what’s new in food” wasteland, I was giddy when Nonesuch first opened its doors. I grabbed one of its exclusive reservations within its first year. And while it’s not a singular effort, I can’t help but think Nonesuch trying something new back then helped pave the way for the more exciting and notable culinary arts being celebrated in the city today.
Having experienced its early days, Ihad a unique opportunity to see how it had evolved and what it was now bringing to the table — pun intended.
Nonesuch still holds that tinge of exclusivity. For one, the entrance is quite understated, making it feel, especially in the dark, like you’re searching for the door to a speakeasy. However, the more intimate setting as you step inside offers the promise of something special.
One of the things that first interested me about Nonesuch’s original concept was the locally sourced ingredients. While Nonesuch today doesn’t solely feature Oklahoma offerings, it’s clear the team still takes great care when selecting what goes into every dish and can tell you nearly every detail about it.
The menu
Technically, a la carte is an option, but we went with the recommended prix fixe menu and added on the beverage pairing, with thought-out bar offerings for each of our five courses.
The meal began with a grilled turnip salad paired with a green apple gimlet. If you’re not a fan of earthy flavors, this salad isn’t for you. The turnip and edible flowers make this a pretty salad-y salad, but the finely diced apples create a dish that writes a love letter to nature. Though I wouldn’t say I’d order this regularly, I always appreciate the opportunity to experience something pulled from the ground that I wouldn’t otherwise reach for.
I do have to take a beat to highlight the gimlet. Normally made with citrus, the green apple substitute added a tart sweetness that turned this classic into something I wanted more of. I can safely say I would have sipped on more of these all night if there weren’t four other beverages already in the queue.
Up next was a mushroom onion soup. Just to be transparent, I love both mushrooms and onions. And I mean, I really love mushrooms. But this soup was on another level. This was mushroom I could only dream of experiencing. Did I say a love letter to the earth before? That was a note passed between first-graders compared to this ode to mushroom’s beauty. Even the pieces of tofu couldn’t help but play a supporting role in this masterpiece.
Reluctantly moving on, my path and the table’s diverged. While I’d love to tell you how the very appetizing-looking oyster tasted, my shellfish allergy dictated I get an alternative. The grilled vegetable that mimicked an oyster’s texture was forgettable, but the bed of creamy greens it rested on still calls to me. I try not to make a habit of oversimplifying elevated food, but it was akin to the world’s best spinach dip, and I can imagine it would taste even more divine on top of a piece of sourdough.
Admittedly, choosing a main was difficult. Notably, two of the five options for a main protein dish are an extra charge, with an option to add caviar to the fish dish for another extra charge. This might be a good time to touch on the fact that a full night out at Nonesuch isn’t cheap. The prix fixe menu rings up to $95 per person, with the beverage pairing adding $80 per person. Choose the beef or chicken-fried steak and you’ve got another $20 on your bill. But I’m not saying it’s not worth a try.
I decided to go with the beef, a rib eye to be more specific. Why? You won’t be surprised to discover it was marginally mushroom-related. A menu says the word “truffle” and there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to order it. Cooked perfectly, the rib eye was buttery with every bite. If I wasn’t so well-versed in steak cuts, I could have been fooled that it was a filet. The sauce (here’s where the truffle comes in) was robust without outshining the steak’s star power.
While I didn’t order it, I had the privilege of trying Nonesuch’s take on an Okie favorite: chicken-fried steak. Having lived in this state my entire life, I’ll be honest and say I wasn’t expecting much of a surprise when it comes to chicken-fried steak. Some places are better than others, but there’s very little reinventing the wheel.
But this dish is doing something different. The portion is diner-sized with a light crispiness that isn’t heavy. However, where you’d expect to find a classic hometown gravy, this chicken-fried steak is smothered in a bonito gravy complete with trout roe. It sounds odd, but it was anything but off-putting. The salty roe offers a mouth texture that’s unexpected in combination with the creamy gravy and crisp flour coating. In fact, on another visit, I’d order it again without hesitation.
Accompanying the mains were a variety of sides, wild rice, cabbage and I could go on, but I cannot pretend I don’t have clear favoritism for the cornbread dish. Cornbread made from fermented corn slathered with curry butter sat unassuming on a plate, but it really made an impression: beautiful, salty, umami, fluffy. But all of that pales in comparison to the way the first bite felt like a warm hug and made me grateful for every Southern food influence that’s infiltrated American living over the years.
Rounding out the night was a complex dessert. A huitlacoche (it’s from corn) ice cream paired with a sweet potato sauce, a drizzle of butterscotch and coffee oil offered up a unique exploration in flavor combinations. Delicate and refreshing, it was a surprisingly light final note.
Delightful staff
Every food review should obviously focus on the food, but I would be remiss in this case to not mention the people. Each person at Nonesuch made the experience special, and it felt like no task was too small for any member of the staff.
There’s a concept that permeates the culinary space called “surprise and delight.” It touches on making even small gestures meaningful during a guest’s short amount of time in the restaurant. Nonesuch seems to subscribe to this mentality.
Whether it was the geographical history of the date fruit in our dessert or the art of finely milling wheat into flour, it was clear every detail was intentional. Everyone I talked to radiated passion for their craft. No matter who came to our table, explained a dish or filled up our waters, it was clear they respected the process and took great care in highlighting just how well-crafted even one meal can be.
As someone who loves food wholeheartedly, I felt a kinship with the staff at Nonesuch. And that’s coming from someone whose social anxiety can top the charts at the best of times. When you see the care and love that goes into every movement, it makes it easy to root for a restaurant’s success.
I’m not in the business of telling anyone they have to like every dish that comes out of a kitchen. But whether I fell head over heels in love with each bite wasn’t what I took away most from my evening there.
I was grateful to taste what the earth’s produce could do when combined in a salad. I was honored to experience the greater heights a mushroom could reach. I was thankful my dietary restrictions weren’t restrictive at all and that they treated a non-oyster course just as seriously as an oyster one. I was excited to see a classic dish like chicken-fried steak get a makeover the likes of which I never would have thought of. And I can’t stress enough how lucky I was to even get one bite of that cornbread-and-curry butter combination.
A meal at Nonesuch wasn’t just a series of plates. It was an education, a labor of love and a special occasion — even when there wasn’t one. Oddly enough, and maybe a bit sentimental about one evening’s dining, it made me proud to be an Oklahoma City native, proud that all my pining for an almost-obsessive attention to food detail could be found in my own backyard.
If you’re in the mood for something elevated or even just want to see how local proprietors are keeping the Oklahoma City food scene alive and well, I’d recommend stopping by.
This article appears in The OG Food Issue 2025.