Dining
THE ACORN
114 28th Ave. N., 320-4399
While it’s impossible to know whether an increase in competition, a rise in customer sophistication, or just simple menu stagnation was the leading issue, it’s fair to say some combination of those factors resulted in a muting of the buzz surrounding the once-high-flying Acorn. (Not to put too much stock in our own nonscientific research, but Acorn enjoyed popular acclaim in the Scene’s Best of Nashville readers’ poll for its first three years, finishing among the best overall restaurants for 2003, 2004 and 2005 before dropping out of the rankings in virtually every category last year—except Outdoor Dining and Best Waiter or Waitress.)
Shellfish Jerk Caribbean shrimp dish tops Acorn’s new menu.
Photos: ericengland.net
So far, Leonard’s investment in MacClure seems to be paying off. Over two recent dinners, we enjoyed innovative, well-executed appetizers and entrées in the comfortable and romantic atmosphere that has become the hallmark of Acorn.
On our visits, MacClure demonstrated a deft touch with seafood across the board. In the scallop appetizer with sweet chili polenta, the seafood, seared to a sandy crispness on the outside, retained its sweet flavor and buttery interior texture and offered a demure foil to tangy hoisin sauce. Spicy barbecue shrimp, gently cooked to retain a firm bite, delivered lingering heat of Tabasco in a tangle of sweet and spicy onion rings.
CHORIZO-AND-POTATO-ENCRUSTED HALIBUT $27
NEW YORK STRIP WITH CHEDDAR SMASHED POTATOES $29
BEEF TENDERLOIN TIPS WITH SWEET CORN PUDDING,
CHIPOTLE REMOULADE $12
SCALLOPS OVER SWEET CHILI POLENTA WITH HOISIN SAUCE $14
From the turf, MacClure delivers pork tenderloin on a bed of grits, dappled with tender black-eyed peas. When someone at our table ordered the pork well done, MacClure, who has been known to push the envelope of pinkness, managed to salvage the flavor and moisture in the cautiously gray meat.
The standout of our meals was an appetizer of blackened beef tenderloin tips over sweet corn pudding with a chipotle remoulade. While the dish was exceedingly salty, the juxtaposition of spicy beef and soothing, buttered-popcorn-flavored pudding led to a greedy rush of spoons competing for the shared appetizer.
A few disappointments in our two dinners were almond-encrusted calamari (the squid was overcooked to the resistant chewiness of surgical tubing); Thai peanut chicken (fettuccine noodles were doused with thick, beige sauce eliciting one unflattering comparison to Lean Cuisine); and seviche (a legacy of the old menu, the fresh, citrus-tinged fish arrived inelegantly cramped in a soup bowl, surrounded by bottom-of-the-bag shards of broken tortilla chips).
Without prompting, MacClure says he is working to revamp the presentation of many of the dishes. He also plans a much-needed overhaul of the dessert menu, which couldn’t come too soon, as we sent back four out of five desserts with their exquisite presentations virtually untouched. If you must conclude a meal with something chocolate, be warned that the so-called chocolate mousse cake is not a light and airy mousse so much as a sturdy, flourless puck.
MacClure is clearly heading in the right direction, bringing some overdue panache to the menu, but he has his work cut out for him if he wants to launch Acorn back into the top tier of dining. One place to start is with the bread. Yes, it’s just bread, but it sets the tone for the whole meal. Every homemade roll we tried was dry and flavorless, despite various additives like nuts and cheese. Another thing: in the middle of summer, why plate a $28 filet with anything other than fresh corn? People are shooing errant cobs of fresh Silver Queen off their doorsteps, while Acorn is delivering a side of fresh grilled okra with chewy, thawed niblets. (Leonard, a numbers guy, cites soaring corn prices resulting from ethanol demand. He also says that he and MacClure are actively looking for local growers to source fresh product, so there’s hope for fresh corn.)
Finally, if you’re going to list a caipirinha on the cocktail menu—and if you’re going to charge $8.50 for it—please muddle the limes by hand. It’s not difficult, but it shows a commitment to freshness and quality that a place like Acorn clearly wants to portray.
And Acorn, as well as any place, is poised to live up to such an image. Leonard is clearly a hardworking, astute guy who has developed a gracious staff and a casually elegant environment. People want to love his restaurant. Maybe MacClure can give them all the reason they need.
Acorn serves dinner Monday through Saturday.

