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About a week ago, I tuned into Oprah, and stumbled upon a show about people that were over-done with fake embellishments of every kind, mostly, it seems, because they had no sense of self or identity. Carson Kressley, make-under master extraordinaire, was on hand to de-puff and de-fluff, working wonders in the process.
Tristan, a decade-long standing powerhouse of culinary excellence that has exercised the muscles of talented chefs from Ciaran Duffy to Aaron Deal, has seemingly undergone a like-minded transition. The restaurant unveiled its "re-launch" on August 13.
I've often wondered, with all its wonders - great setting, marvelous staff, fabulous food - why Tristan hasn't automatically jumped out as a must-do in this city of all things delicious. Maybe, like Oprah's lost souls, Tristan was lacking a sense of self, too. Now, in its most naked and purest form to date, Tristan shines brighter than ever, especially in the hands of its latest maestro, Executive Chef Nate Whiting.
Gone are some of the things, I must admit, I liked. The sheer curtains that wrapped around the dining room, the zinnias that smiled prettily at the center of every table, and much of the bright, jangled art work. What's left is a pure, open space that invites peace, quiet and sophisticated dining. Gone, too, is the access to Market Street, no doubt to keep out the wandering, curious tourist masses that sometimes clogged this space in days' past. What's left is a peaceful, downtown dining enclave with freshly re-upholstered dining chairs and vanilla-hued table linens. And, the free, convenient valet parking is still intact.
Whiting, in just eight months, has composed a menu that is all his own. His style, like his smile, is refreshingly unfettered, unpretentious, slightly shy, and pure. Diners now can pick from a four course (2 appetizers, main course and dessert) prix fixe ($50), all selected from the new menu, or run rampant, selecting from the generous (but not overly done)a la carte menu.
Oven warm, house made sourdough rolls and fresh focaccia begged for the room temp butter it was served with and the warm weather-winner of an amuse bouche, a citron and fresh vanilla bean gelatin topped with cream and pine nuts, that followed was lovely. Both helped set the stage for what proved to be a most stellar evening of dining. Settled into the comfortable deep blue, deep-seated banquettes that line the dining room, my dining companion and I were charmed with the easy knowledge and banter of our server, who picked wines he felt "reflected" the tasting evolution of each dish we were about to savor. He hit the mark every single time and did so in a way that was absolutely not pedantic, yet absolutely endearing. A rare quality, indeed, and oh, so very welcome.
Whiting's pared down the froth and foam of Tristan's former She-Crab Soup ($8), fattening it up with pure lobster stock (the kind made from the shells that you can really taste) and beefing it up with authenticity. One of the best in the city, it was served at the perfect temperature over a cluster of fresh crab. Heaven could not get closer to earth in either the Roasted and Raw Beet Salad ($8) or the Marinated Heirloom Tomatoes salad ($8). The former, a composed salad of raw and roasted beet perfection, was artfully arranged, with whisper thin slices of veined purple and white beets here and roasted wedges of others, there, served over a whipped bed of tart/sweet local artisanal goat cheese and topped with chunky bites of salty, roasted pistachios. The latter flaunted fat, tempting chunks of multi-hued, skinless, plum-full-of-flavor heirloom tomatoes, a delicate mustard emulsion, a fat chunk of warm, tempered house-made mozzarella, and Lilliputian, super-crunchy, buttery croutons, rendering it one of the best things I've eaten all year. Bar none!
A refreshing and welcome intermezzo of peach and sage sorbet, served in Willy Wonka-like tilting, tiny bowls introduced just the right whimsical touch and gustatory invitation to the main course.
It may sound humble, "Diver Scallops (with) Scallop Mousse, Mustard Emulsion, Sauteed Asparagus & Prosciutto ($28), but it knocked beautifully on the door of perfection, yet once again. Whiting procures his scallops from a trusted fisherman in Maine, and do they deliver in the freshness and flavor department. Whiting's extreme skill is evident not just in the pillow-like, yet toothsome girth of his pretty scallop mousse balls, but in the temperature/browning balancing act he puts to work in the searing and cooking process of the scallops. This plate is a Tristan mandate that is not to be missed. I was less enamored with the beef short ribs ($27), but maybe I was still stuttering in the afterglow of those scallops.
A silky, gently chocolate pot de creme, served in a see-through, tiny glass pot and topped with chunks of Fleur de Sel, was gorgeous with a taste of the cherry sorbet and stewed, warm cherries served with it. Our able, welcome server, described the order to consume it, and he was right. It was a one, two, three punch winner that carried me into dream-land that night.
Tristan's on a new path of individuality, successfully corralling a concert of talent like it never has before. It was similar to seeing a good, old, slightly over-done friend in an all new, modern and super-enhancing light. I think it would do Carson proud. I know it did me. Bravo, Tristan.
Tristan
10 Linguard Street
Charleston, SC 29401
www.tristandining.com
(843) 534-2155
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