Best Restaurants 2008: The Top 10
By Donna Covrett
Photographs by Ryan Kurtz
Number 1: Boca
3200 Madison Rd., Oakley, (513) 542-2022 // Rank last year: 2
Observing Boca these last seven years under owner and executive chef David Falk has been like watching a precocious, gifted adolescent grow into a self-assured adult. You come to realize it’s not perfection but the constant quest for perfection that sets the place apart. Most remarkable is that the maturation has occurred under the direction of a very young staff, some of whom have been with the 32-year-old Falk since he purchased Boca in its original Northside location in 2001. Falk recently opened his second restaurant, the downtown Mexican spot Nada, but there was hardly a wrinkle in Boca’s excellence, due in part to partner and co-chef Jono Fries and to Falk’s high level of creative energy. The result is a nightly show of smart, high-spirited service, and food that’s suspended in an aura of sensuality.
The atmosphere of serious fun extends to Boca’s menu. Tucked between two superstar first courses (the diver sea scallops with three-hour caramelized brussels sprouts, and the grilled Caesar salad) is a slider: a three-bite burger made from prime ground beef tenderloin, with a fine chop of steamed onions and melted cheese—er, Velveeta. Exceptionally juicy, it’s a fun riff on White Castle—a bit of postmodern irony—and an example of the confidence level Boca is operating on: Tenderloin sliders are hardly new, but most restaurants operating at this level wouldn’t dare dress them down.
The staff seems genuinely delighted by Fries’s abilities, and sells his creative fare with ease and enthusiasm. He is a superb young chef. Preserving the tradition of Mediterranean cooking, his menu favors intensity of flavor over multiple ingredients. On one particular visit, the 20-hour sous vide lamb shoulder was simply supported by sauteed black kale and a puree of cannellini beans. Ultra-tender shreds of the lamb, when pushed together with the bordelaise sauce, morphed into a meat jam. The effect was nothing less than carnal comfort. In addition to lamb, the menu, which changes daily, features inventive beef, pork, game, seafood and several hand-made pastas. It’s the small details and concentrated flavors that set these dishes apart—house-made guanciale (a bacon made from pig cheeks) in Boca carbonera, a first course of house-made bresaola (brined and air-cured beef) with parmigiano vacca rossa. Instead of sanctioned steakhouse sides, a wood-fired prime strip is accompanied by swiss chard and rosemary roasted potatoes with bagna cauda—a classic Piedmont dipping sauce of warm olive oil, butter, garlic, and anchovies. With a spritz of grilled lemon it feels both palate cleansing and luscious, with notes of sea, pine, and earth. A chicken-and-swiss-chard–filled cappellacci pasta, adorned with little more than a slick of white truffle butter and shards of Parmigiano-Reggiano, is beguiling in its plainness. One bite of the silken pasta, which glides past the lips as if it was rolled out minutes ago, and the artistry is obvious. It’s that moment of clarity I look for in dining, and one of the many you’ll experience at Boca.
Number 2: Jean-Robert at Pigall's
127 W. Fourth St., downtown, (513) 721-1345 // Rank last year: 1
Finesse is defined as “refinement and delicacy of performance, execution, or artisanship.” That precisely describes Jean-Robert de Cavel’s flagship restaurant, a microcosm of fine dining that’s kept in motion by painstaking attention to detail and a constant interplay of opposites. There’s a sense of hushed calm as you enter, even as maitre d’ Richard Brown greets you with his genial energy. The dining room manages to feel casual amid its elegance, and intimate despite its spaciousness. De Cavel’s collection of vintage salt and pepper shakers tucked into several wall recesses provide some whimsy; vivid contemporary paintings provide some flash. Sheathed in a warm apricot radiance that could upstage a lighting director, the dramatic aesthetic hums: Dining at Pigall’s is meant to be a complete experience. Mobil Travel Guide agrees; this year, Pigall’s earned a third four-star rating.
Even if you are not familiar with de Cavel’s passion for his work, it’s apparent when you open the menu. The three-course, prix-fixe meal isn’t one for the decision-impaired. It’s not a large menu—an average of eight selections in each course—but the dozens of ingredients that herald the season parade by with such velocity as to create a sense of utter uniqueness. No single dish jumps out at you; they all do. Solution: Dine with others who will share. It’s the only way you'll know both the robust, haute flavor of sweetbreads with white grits, Serrano ham, roasted onions, and root vegetables, and the fine dice of cool sushi-grade tuna mixed with smoked salmon, enriched with a pert poached quail egg, roasted purple potatoes, and an onion compote. Served by an impeccably correct, surprisingly informal staff, de Cavel’s dishes have as much visual impact as they do flavor. A small round of ivory Jonah crab salad rests on a thin crunch of green slaw, which itself nearly covers a sheer puddle of rosy pomegranate dressing. A tiny scoop of ruby red grapefruit sorbet with shreds of orange zest crowns the crab, and a paintbrush stripe of currant glaze and pomegranate-seed baubles complete the artwork. In a foodie pinup calendar, this would be Bettie Page, but there’s also the delivery of flavor. Time is arrested with each exquisitely icy bite of mild brine and citrus, herb, and crunch.
De Cavel has had a whirlwind year, building two new establishments (Twist Lounge and Lavomatic Cafe), reconfiguring Pho Paris into Chalk Food + Wine, and developing a banquet division based in Newport. What keeps Pigall’s out of the top spot? A dish or two that seems as busy as Jean-Robert’s schedule: a sea bass too sauced, too rich; an overdressed pumpkin soup. It’s rare, but bound to happen to anyone building a legacy. After all, it’s the same drive, inspiration, and passion that sustains the grace and finesse of Pigall’s.
Number 3: Orchids
35 W. Fifth St., downtown, (513) 665-2560 // Rank last year: 7
My dinner companions were younger, with a cool quotient significantly higher than mine. They can text message at lightning speed. They have educated palates and dine out regularly. But they had never been to Orchids, so they also had exit strategies...just in case. In a restaurant generation marked by informality and bustle, hotel fine dining is often snooze-inducing. Two courses in, they canceled their alternate plans. “Everyone in the city should know how incredible this is!” they insisted. They’re right. Certainly you know the dramatic Art Deco room. You may even know the reputation for stellar service. But what you really need to know is that Chef Todd Kelly’s food grabs the palate and quietly lingers in the mind.
If Kelly was a little too eager to impress in his inaugural year—resulting in a few dishes with more show than go—2007 saw him settle into a confident, relaxed groove, his neoclassic fare more than a match for the gilded splendor of the Hilton Netherland Plaza. Within a market-driven menu of artisanal products, Kelly expertly balances humble and highbrow. An over-easy egg and shreds of fried potatoes become nearly virtuous perched on chilled Maine lobster with dribbles of caviar cream and lemony purslane puree. Considered by some as much trash meat as delicacy, slightly smoky sweetbreads au torchon paired with tiny, buttery Kushi oysters centered in a briny oyster veloute sauce and stippled with crunchy tapioca pearls produced nearly feral sounds from our table.
Expect to find a variety of interesting meats and seafood—beef cheeks, lamb loin, John Dory (a firm, mild fish), squab, venison—combined with distinctive produce such as persimmons, lychees, rambutans, and Seckel pears. My friends wasted no time in going back. They texted me: Orchids! OMG!!!!
Number 4: Nicola's
1420 Sycamore St., Over-the-Rhine, (513) 721-6200 // Rank last year: 3
Sometimes it’s a roll of the genetic dice. Sometimes it’s the drive and sweat. Sometimes it’s both, which Chef Cristian Pietoso possesses in copious amounts. It takes all that and a dash of pazzo (crazy) to be the executive chef of two acclaimed restaurants (his second, Via Vite, where he is also a managing partner, has been slammed with business since its opening over four months ago). Modern in approach and bound by the traditions of simple regional Italian cooking, he creates dishes that taste as though they have been handed down by generations of great Italian cooks. Pietoso has built a reputation on his sumptuous hand-made pastas: his gnocchi are so delicate they nearly float above the fork, and even the sturdy wheat dough agnolotti are tender. If you are lucky enough to be dining when these little “priest hats” are filled with a whisper-light Gorgonzola and paired with the veal parmigiano sauce, you will know a deep, almost primordial well-being.
Housed in a 19th-century incline car barn, Nicola’s handsome open dining room feels intimate and casual. The diminutive bar is a favorite spot to meet for a glass of one of the many Italian wines, from the house Montepulciano d'Abruzzo to an assortment of expensive Barolos. Service is dependable, knowledgeable, and warm, and has been even more so since Yuri Hart returned in 2007 to manage the front of the house. But when people talk about Nicola’s, it is always food first. This is no mere pasta temple. Pietoso’s understated elegance shows in slices of local roasted beets with white and green asparagus and a drizzle of garlic oil; in pancetta-wrapped pork tenderloin proudly served with his grandmother’s peperonata (stewed red and yellow peppers) with rosemary sauce; in the ambrosial quality of traditional panna cotta, accompanied only by a cool fruit coulis. And yes, it is possible to eat several mediocre meals elsewhere for the price of one meal here. But this is the one you’ll be talking about.
Number 5: Slims
4046 Hamilton Ave., Northside, (513) 621-1465 / Rank last year: 4
To you and me, Slims looks like a restaurant. It has large communal tables, small-group tables, servers, and cooks. It has an interesting menu of largely Puerto Rican and pan-Latin food, for which they charge you money. But ask owner Patrick McCafferty to describe his establishment, and the word restaurant is never used. Rather, you’ll receive an existentialist’s explanation: It’s a “conceptual piece” where the menu is a “novel in progress” within a “progressive, open-space art gallery.” Then he’ll sigh, chuckle, remind you that Slims merely exists to serve the farm and his greenhouse, that refinement is a form of corruption, and then he’ll confess it’s all way too big for him anyway. Um, OK, chef. May I just have the pork belly, please? Because nobody—nobody—makes it like you, and I want nothing but to be immersed in a moment of pure pleasure. Unctuous and glistening, slow braised in citrus juices, with a crunch of caramelized cracklin’, the combination of delicate fat and sugar char makes it the crystal meth of meat. The side of sweet and smoky fufu—mashed plantains with bits of bacon—is nearly as much fun to eat as it is to say. Though the menu is hand-written weekly, you’ll find a few regular items such as vatapa, the Brazilian sweet-and-heat stew of tomatoes, onions, coconut, ginger, chile, and lime and Mofongo Pequeno, spicy shrimp with hot pepper and garlic ajili mojili sauce in a crisp fried plantain cup. And always…the salads. Yes, McCafferty and the staff tend to their own greens year-round. You’ll find the tender small leaves, both slightly mineral and nectarous in flavor, minimally dressed in fruity vinaigrette or splashed with lime and mint and accompanied by chilled melon slices, or perhaps by oranges, goat cheese, and pomegranate seeds. It’s clear that Slims marches to its own beat, which, on occasion, is not in sync with our own. Refinement may indeed adulterate the essence of something forever. But chef, if it wasn’t for the idea of refinement, Slims wouldn’t exist.
Number 6: JeanRo Bistro
413 Vine St., downtown, (513) 621-1465 / Rank last year: 15
With plenty of charming bonhomie and hearty, unpretentious French-country fare, this lively bistro is always crowded with a mixture of downtown residents and hotel guests, the after-theater crowd, and fans gathered around the bar reveling (or commiserating) after a Bengals game. Servers clad in black aprons hustle about, delivering bowls of garlicky mussels mariniere or the buttered and bronzed croque monsieur deluxe, a sandwich that’s a glorious ooze of ham and swiss topped with bechamel sauce and an egg over-easy. Except for adding or removing seasonal items, the menu changes little, so you can be assured you’ll find the classics: crocks of dark onion soup sealed with caps of melted, blistered Swiss; sauteed calf’s liver and onions better than your grandmother made; and a coq au vin so deeply infused with the flavors of garlic, bacon, and red wine sauce you may start humming “La Marseillaise.” Steak and potatoes are a popular combination in any language. In French it is steak frites, a half pound of top sirloin dressed with a dollop of salty herb butter and accompanied by the soft-crisp fries. Desserts are delightfully simple, free of acrobatics and still unforgettable. It’s a wonder more restaurants don’t follow suit. I’ve raved about the sultry chocolate mousse, wicked-good pot de creme, and apple tarte tatin (a la mode, of course) before, but this past year, I rediscovered the splendor of floating island: ethereal clouds of poached meringue in a cool pool of creme anglaise and toasted almonds. But be advised: The food is not always fabulous. I’ve been served overcooked pork chops, vegetable pot au feu thwarted by too much thyme, and a soup du jour more mid-America than French farmhouse. But amid the dark polished wood, exposed brick, giant mirrors, and vintage French lithographs, the boisterous clatter of plates and spirited conversation reverberate the soul of a Parisian bistro. You just know that someone is having a night they’ll talk about tomorrow.
Number 7: Cumin
3520 Erie Ave., Hyde Park, (513) 871-8714 / Rank last year: 11
Look at the fragile, lacy cumin plant, and you wouldn’t expect that its seeds impart such an exotic aroma and bold flavor to curry. So too does its namesake restaurant stray beyond the expectation of boilerplate Indian menus to a province of cross-cultural flair. Chefs Yajan Upadhyaya and Josh Munchel retain the foundation of Indian spices and technique, infusing most dishes with ingredients and flavors better known to European and Mediterranean countries, and offering them in a brief, three-course menu. A salad of spinach leaves tossed in creamy vinaigrette plays coolly elegant against a swaddle of warm, robust lentil dal fragrant with fennel and cumin. The classic French method of baking in parchment paper—en papillote—is used for a filet of salmon layered with a compote of tomato, spinach, and squash. The fish and vegetables steam in their own juices, producing a dish that is full-bodied and mellow. It gets a punch from a side of coconut chutney, both sweet and piquant. It’s an inspired match-up. Tea brining, a technique credited to the Chinese, uses tea, salt, and sugar to tenderize and add flavor to meats. Cumin’s tea-brined tandoori chicken is intensely flavorful and moist. Served solely with roasted peppers and onions, the weave of Indian, French, and Chinese influence is remarkably easy to discern, and still somehow seamless. The same merge of traditional and contemporary extends to Cumin’s chic 80-seat interior. The colors of the Indian flag appear in a sleek dividing wall, while Hindu gods and goddesses overlook beautifully set tables. We love the small, stylish bar where you can try specialty cocktails and listen to live music. We’ve unwittingly discovered the seductive quality of mango, ginger, pomegranate, cardamom, jasmine, and chai blended with various spirits on several occasions. Service is warm and knowledgeable, especially if co-owner Alex Mchaikhi is on the floor, and seems to be more attentive when it’s busy, but that doesn’t detract from a memorable experience.
Number 8: Jo An
3940 Olympic Blvd., Erlanger, (859) 746-2634 / Rank last year: 9
Built in 1997 for visiting Japanese executives of the nearby Toyota plant, Jo An remains the exemplary model for authentic Japanese cuisine and service. (During one of our recent visits, the president and vice president of Toyota were eating in a private dining room; our server was selected to wait on that party, a job that required precision and a deft touch.) Don’t let the office park location or plain interior—light woods, tables lined up in a streamlined fashion and set simply with napkins and chopsticks—mislead you. Once the first exquisite plate of food arrives, it’s apparent that the surroundings are kept humble out of respect for the meal. If sushi is your interest, there is plenty of the hand-formed sushi rice topped with sliced fish (nigiri), and elaborate rolls (maki), to choose from. But I find the best way to experience Jo An is to let the server guide you through the lengthy tapas-like izakaya-style menu and list of daily specials, ordering a banquet of small plates. (An izakaya is a sort of Japanese pub that serves snacks along with beer and sake.) Try the steamed and chilled ankimo (monkfish liver), delicate velvet on the lips and dissolving like a dream on the tongue. Next, an assortment of Japanese pickles—daikon, lotus root, eggplant, and cucumber—followed by a plate of grilled smelt, served with head and tails intact. There’s nothing quite like the indelicate, smoky-sweet crunch of fish heads. Continue with pristine, fresh sashimi, delightfully slippery steamed shrimp dumplings (shumai), and small “lollipops” of fried tofu with tempura sauce. Finish with a bowl of icy cold chasoba noodles, or the warm brothy rice known as ochazuke. Need more adventure? Ask if the chef has unadvertised specials. My current favorite is the musky, tawny tuna neck (also known as tuna collar), a buttery-rich cut that managed to satisfy both the cynics and gourmands at our table.
Number 9: Nectar
1000 Delta Ave., Mt. Lookout, (513) 929-0525 / Rank last year: 5
“You know when you’re kissing a guy and just don’t want it to ever end? That’s how I feel about this dish.” My gorgeous girlfriend Teresa knows a thing or two about kissing, so I consider her comment about the spoon of soup that’s gliding over her lips the ultimate compliment. And accurate. This particular bowl is a puree of mellow butternut squash surrounding a tiny island of spicy Dungeness crab salad, but there is not one soup I’ve ever eaten from the kitchen of chef Julie Francis that hasn’t elicited a similar feeling of original sin. Whether it’s corn in the summer or peas in the spring, she allows the bold assertion of flavor to shine. Francis’s first restaurant, Aioli, took much the same approach, until the changing downtown market conflicted with her ideas. Here, she has hit her stride. Dinner at this modestly appointed neighborhood cafe follows Francis’s commitment to supporting a healthy, sustainable approach to dining out, to nourish and nurture both guest and the environment. The single page of a dozen items rotates frequently, featuring as many locally produced vegetables, meats, and dairy as the season allows, the style of cooking rooted in Provence and inspired by Mediterranean, Latin, and Asian cuisines. A striped bass may be wrapped like a birthday gift in pancetta, served with a celery root puree and herb salad; a rich duck leg confit settled into a frame of tiny Du Puy lentils with sweet and sour ginger-braised cabbage and orange currant jus. The flip side of the menu is just as thoughtful: usually a dozen interesting wines, by the bottle and the glass, chosen for their synergy with the menu. I found the notes of apple in a sparkling Gruet Blanc de Noirs from New Mexico an impressive match for roasted chicken. Even the restrained and respectful service aligns with Nectar’s principles. Sometimes simple really is best.
Number 10: Daveed's at 934
934 Hatch St., Mt. Adams, (513) 721-COOK / Rank last year: 8
Since its opening in 1999, Daveed’s has earned a reputation for delivering the unexpected. Here you’ll find a menu short on options and long on creativity, with only allusions to the complexity about to appear before you. Ohio baby beet salad “with apple, celery, and goat cheese” looks nothing like what you would imagine. Instead, a methodically assembled piece of performance art alights on the table. At one end of a rectangular plate rests an oval stack of room temperature roasted beets layered with paper thin celery and rich ivory goat cheese; positioned at the other end is one half of a roasted apple painted with an apple cider gastrique so intensely concentrated, it’s an entire orchard in a bite. The two ends are connected by an edible, crisp tuile fork for an effect that’s theatrical, frisky, and sublime. This is the heart of chef David Cook’s cooking—unexpected juxtapositions rooted in solid technique and balanced by fearlessness and whimsy, as much to keep him from going bonkers as to impress the diner. He overhauls the dozen items on his menu frequently, rarely reprising a dish the same way twice. Walking this sort of high wire guarantees a fall now and then, and the kitchen does occasionally overreach. Texan quail with oysters, coconut, green curry, and shallots is alluring, but the combination of game, brine, sweet, hot, and pungent never produces an oomph moment. The eclectic cooking matches the interior’s aesthetic, an intimate patchwork of vivid contemporary art, colored glass, candles, and baubles. This throw-everything-at-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks approach may have kept the consistency of Daveed’s dishes on a bit of a roller-coaster over the years, but it has also helped define great dining in Cincinnati.
Click here to return to Where to Eat Now 2008.
Originally published in the March 2008 issue.