Since the beginning, delicious gourmet food has been a cornerstone of The Food Show. While I don’t seek out gourmet food as Tom did, I also love delicious food. But delicious food is in the palate of the beholder, isn’t it?
Tom and I had a “discussion” (as the kids liked to call them) that went on for the entirety of our marriage. It was about the hierarchy of the dining experience. What matters more? Food, environment, service? For him it was about food and service. For me it was about how a dining experience makes me feel. And sometimes, they delight me.
Left to my own, I gravitate to casual, but occasionally I return to the world Tom preferred, and I am reminded that I love it too. The Dakota in downtown Covington is almost 36 years old, and and it has maintained standards of true excellence since the beginning. There are a lot of comparably outstanding restaurants that have entered the dining scene on this side of the lake since then, but The Dakota holds its own.
A few years ago they gave their loyal customer base pause when they closed for a period, announcing a relocation to downtown Covington without disclosing their new address. They coyly denied all guesses as to where the new place would be. I was too vocal with my disbelief that they were actually relocating. Such a move made no sense to me since both owners have had tremendously successful careers and could have retired rather than undertaking such an ambitious project. But two plus years after, I was thrilled to be proven wrong when they opened a stunning space which combined two buildings, wrapping around a completely different third building. The entrance is in the back, with outdoor dining and a large bar in one converted old building. The main dining rooms and a larger part of the bar are in the other building, forming an L-shaped footprint of a fashionably modern and elegant space that incorporates the spirit of the original Dakota. Very well done. No wonder they were so secretive.
I don’t go to The Dakota much since it moved because it is hyper-expensive. It’s the R'evolution of the Northshore, but the food is better here. It’s a total splurge. This past week I wanted to splurge with the brutal cold out. Just being in these surroundings delights me. I was pleasantly surprised to see a menu for lunch that didn’t frighten me much. I ordered the signature Crab & Brie soup, which originated here but has been copied around town a bit. The best version is still here. The soup is $18, which is a price for soup that would have stopped me in my tracks a few years ago, but it is becoming a common sight. For the portion here, and the ingredients, it does not repulse me as much as it usually does.
Eating a luscious soup like this with a toasted crusty bread would be enough of a meal for me. I asked about bread. There are three types of bread service here, and I don’t like any of them: focaccia, brioche and cornbread are $7 each. I asked if there was any sourdough back in the kitchen. They serve bruschetta, so they offered me a few slices of toasted sourdough, the perfect foil for the creamy Brie soup.
If someone wanted to have a satisfying lunch in these glamorous surroundings, it would be possible to get out of The Dakota for less than you'd expect. For content purposes I also ordered the Steak & Frites, which is something I occasionally get. It came with the outstanding French fries, which I considered getting as a side for $17. They are worth every penny, but would be too many for just me.
The soup came and I indulged, savoring every single bite. It was thick and creamy and had a rich mouthfeel. A collection of Blue Crab bits sat in the center. The sourdough was toasted just right and accompanied by great butter, and this was a decadent first course. The bowl went back clean, because I used the sourdough to mop up every trace. Glorious!
The Steak & Frites were the best I have had. I would occasionally get a steak for lunch at The Dakota in its original location, always marveling to Tom how I preferred it to steakhouses. The beef they buy is clearly exceptional.
It was cooked medium rare and sliced thin, drizzled with garlic butter, and tender enough to cut with a butter knife. Simply superb.
The fries are housecut, fried to perfection shoestring potatoes. Greaseless, seasoned just right, crispy, fluffy inside. Unbeatable.
They came as a huge pile, but the aioli was plopped on top of the pile. This was unusual. I prefer a little ramekin on the side. I love the aioli here, but it has a hint of tarragon which is a distinctive taste that others may not appreciate as I do. To have it unavoidably served on the fries was weird. And it didn’t look so good.
I have often, but not too often, spoken about sitting in a restaurant and feeling giddy with happiness. A beautiful environment, nice music, great people-watching, and food that delights me are a powerful combination. This was the way Tom lived to eat. I have to remember that more often, and get back to going to these places.
