New Eats: Fine dining at Amelia Gene’s
Joshua Carlucci | The Daily Memphian
I hate the term “fine-dining.”
Often, any place that has pretty plates, pretty tablecloths and pretty price tags can get labeled as such. At best, “fine-dining” is an insinuation that shiny things equal sophistication without regard to the food. At worst, it’s a pretentious insinuation that what is attainable for some is out of reach for others.
Neither is the case at Amelia Gene’s.
The new restaurant opened on Front Street last month in the brick-and-steel maze that once held the William C. Ellis & Sons Ironworks & Machine Shop. The interior is a lot shinier than it was before and is decked out with contemporary art on exposed brick walls, a mirror ceiling studded with Edison bulbs and an open kitchen run by Chicago-hailed chef Nate Henssler.
It’s a swanky place, one that makes you worry at first that you may be underdressed but the servers reassure you of the contrary. No coats or dresses are necessary, despite the white tablecloths — a relief, along with the service.
Amelia Gene’s is not the place to dine on a budget but, in the greater context of “fine-dining,” the prices are not prohibitive. An extensive wine list juxtaposes some safe bets with eclectic natural wines such as those from Arianna Occhipinti in southern Sicily. A curated cocktail menu has something for every liquor preference, including a couple of spiritless alternatives for non-drinkers, ranging anywhere from $10 to $18.
The food at Amelia Gene’s is Eurocentric — emphasizing French, Italian and English techniques — with the occasional nod to regional particularities such as grits and yuzu. Bites range from $7 to $20-ish; starters and pasta from $15 to $25; and entrees from $56 to $100.
Here’s what we ate from top to bottom:
Amuse-bouche
The kitchen’s surprise amuse-bouche — a savory, hors d’oeuvres-sided, complimentary bite — was a shallow shooter of apple and celeriac (celery root) soup. The slight sweetness from the apple fused well with the earthy, turnip-like flavor from the celeriac in this unexpected and silky-smooth soup. A light and very autumnal start to the meal.
Proper Bites (small appetizers)
Blackberry Oyster
Meaty oysters from Virginia’s Chesapeake Bay are lifted from their shells, which are filled with soubise — a sauce made from cream, butter, onions and, in this case, cauliflower. The oysters are then returned to their shells in the sauce, garnished with a brunoise of pickled cucumber and bay leaf oil and served over a bed of salt.
This method of preparing a raw oyster was pleasantly new to me. The brininess of the oyster struck a confluence with the creamy richness of the soubise, a sauce that can sometimes be boring and one-dimensional. The addition of cauliflower’s delicate vegetality negated this. The pickled cucumbers brought a bright acidity to tie it all together for a satisfying two-to-three-bite appetizer.
Be aware, though, that each order comes with only one oyster, so your company will also need one if they want to experience it with you.
Starters
Charred Octopus Salad
I wouldn’t call this a salad as much as it’s a tentacle of charred octopus with salad-esque garnishes. Spanish octopus is garnished with baby mustard greens and a yin-yang swoosh of dueling sauces: green goddess dressing and a fish fumet reduction emulsified with lemon juice and olive oil.
It eats like a deconstructed salad, sure, but really, the octopus is the intentional star of the show here. It’s textured and flavored beautifully, the exterior crispy and bitter from the hard char, the interior melty and sweet. The sauces are fun to play with, bite after bite, along with the slightly bitter roughage from the mustard green.
I do think the plating could be tightened up a bit, but it’s a bright and clean dish with great replay value.
Hudson Valley Foie Gras
Good foie gras takes finesse; it is meticulous and frustrating to clean and devein, and it needs to be seared properly to get a good, even caramelization without melting and burning it.
Amelia Gene’s delivers the goods in a very French way. A nice cut of this fatty liver from upstate New York is seared to a rich brown and plated alongside watercress, wine-poached pears and a pear mille crepe cake. Around the plate is a thick drizzle of veal sauce, made from a heavy reduction of pear juice, pear vinegar, white wine and veal stock infused with myriad aromatics.
If you like your foie gras in its most rudimentary form, like me, this is the dish for you. The foie gras eats like butter: melt in your mouth, pairing classically well with the sweet things surrounding it. The rendering fat from the liver melds with the syrupy demi-glace, making for some great side-swiping of the pear and crepe cake, both of which inventively add contrasting textures to the plate.
Pasta
Tortellini
Small, hand-shaped tortellini filled with Maine uni (sea urchin) wade in a citrus beurre blanc, a sauce made by reducing white wine and vinegar with shallots and emulsifying it with butter. In this version, orange zest and smoked steelhead caviar from the state of Washington are infused into the sauce.
The shape of the tortellini is the perfect vessel for the complex beurre blanc, which is slightly earthy, citrus-y and salty from the orange and fish roe. Though the texture of the pasta and filling were on point, the delicate flavor of the uni is a bit drowned out by the rich butter sauce and the sharpness of the raw shallot garnish.
Don’t get me wrong — this is a delicious and finesseful pasta, but it would have been nice to have the uni in the spotlight a little more. Perhaps if it were on the outside of the pasta it would have been easier to detect.
Dinner
Dry-Aged Prime New York Strip
The meat, 22 ounces of short loin from Kansas, was dry-aged for 52 days before being trimmed and cut into New York strips. The steak is seared to a preferred temperature, sliced on a bias, topped with popovers made from tallow (beef fat) and served alongside a vessel of sauce au poivre.
I’m not commonly a steak-orderer, unless the setting is right. Something about this very British steak preparation was calling my spirit. Seared over an open fire for a clean crust and medium-rare interior, the beef itself was deeply funky, grassy, tender and concentrated from the long dry-age.
The tallow popovers, also known as Yorkshire puddings in the UK, were an exciting and uncommon addition: The soft and pillowy pockets of flour and egg are puffed in rendered dry-age beef fat trim. They’re the perfect sponge for the sauce au poivre, a reduction of cream and peppercorn.
It’s a big steak with a classic steakhouse aura about it, making it rustic yet elegant and perfect to share between two or three people.
Dessert
While all the desserts sounded lovely, we went for the cheese course instead — a classically French addition to the meal that usually takes place after the main course. Cheeses are curated and rotated out weekly and held on a cart that is rolled tableside where they are cut and served.
Cheeses vary greatly by region, flavor and texture, from France to California, funky to rich and creamy. Orders come in threes or fives and are served on slate with small accouterments such as fruit, marmalade and crostini.
Mignardise
A mignardise is the sweet version of an amuse-bouche, served as the last bite of the coursed meal. At Amelia Gene’s, it’s a rose marshmallow: Simple, light, fluffy and floral and perfect with an after-dinner espresso or digestif nightcap.
Final thoughts
A dinner for two at Amelia Gene’s, including a couple of drinks and gratuity, can cost anywhere from $200-$300, depending on the number of dishes and courses ordered. It’s not cheap, but it’s also not unreasonable for a meal like this.
Dining at Amelia Gene’s is a special experience. The patient and knowledgeable service, impressive but unfussy setting, calculated bar program and deftly crafted, near-perfect food pair a classic “fine-dining” elegance with a fresh perspective that is both inviting and accessible.
If you’re looking for an impressive meal that’s multifaceted and memorable without being stuffy, look to Amelia Gene’s.