Neighborhood joint, sassy sports bar or culinary enclave? Acorn should pick a personality and polish it.
The three faces of evening
by Carrington Fox
Blue cheese terrine $11
Crab cakes $13
Grilled scallops $28
Seared salmon $25
Roasted chicken $25
When last we checked in on The Acorn three summers ago, we scratched our heads over the virtual disappearance of the West End eatery from the Scene's unscientific Best Of Nashville polls. This past fall, Acorn again went home without any hardware, with the exception of a quirky award for Best Service: Weird Wedding Edition. You might say we shoehorned the 7-year-old restaurant into the ranks of writers' favorites, and you'd be right. The thing is, we like Acorn a lot. It's sexy, nestled back by Centennial Park and adorned by a rare piece of public sculpture in the front yard. It's versatile, with the upstairs patio and downstairs dining room simultaneously delivering atmospheres of festive bar and culinary enclave, respectively. And most importantly, the cautiously creative menu is consistently well-executed.
Yet, something keeps us from thrusting Acorn into the top ranks of our go-to restaurants. More on that later.
Since our last update, a few things have changed. Owners Pamela and John Leonard have retreated north to Washington, D.C., leaving operations in the hands of managing partner Julie Rahimi and general manager Robin Lee, and chef Andy Hunter has taken over the kitchen. An alumnus of the Opryland Culinary Institute and the bygone Wild Boar and Arthur's, Hunter left his native Nashville for a tour of duty in New Orleans, where he refined a repertoire of French cuisine. Over the past two years at Acorn, Hunter has brought his Big Easy experience to bear, transforming the menu from eclectic Continental cuisine to a more focused French style. Think un-frilly compositions with a meat, a starch, a vegetable and a sauce, with a few playful touches — and plenty of Benton's bacon.
One of the first creative flourishes we noticed was the delivery of warm breads in a wood-and-leather box repurposed from local cigar manufacture CAO. (No, the box does not smell of residual tobacco.) And we almost giggled when we found Momma's Seven-Layer Salad on the menu. Isn't that the potluck staple made with layer upon layer of peas, bacon, mayonnaise, cheese and shredded lettuce? Indeed, Acorn's appetizer salad is a freestanding homage to the casserole-dish classic, with butter leaf standing in for iceberg, chewy lardons of Benton hickory smoked pork in lieu of standard-issue bacon bits, and shreds of Kenny's Farmhouse white cheddar from Kentucky. The pool of tangy boiled vinaigrette on the bottom of the plate was a more refined finish than the traditional glob of mayo, but the signature element of frozen peas was disappointingly present and accounted for. We couldn't help thinking that upgrading to fresh peas — or even to an unexpected riff on peas — would make the joke work a little better and the $9.50 price tag go down a little easier.
Calamari scored extremely high on our calamarimeter, with whisper-light batter that gave way to soft cheese-textured rings. A tower of crab cakes topped with bacon and tomato jam was a seductive marriage of smoky salt and tangy sweetness. So what if the decadently thick rashers of bacon drowned out the delicate flavor of the shellfish? No complaints here.
The unexpected standout of the appetizers was the blue cheese terrine with pecans and blackberry jam. Served with toasted slices of the very same Sally Lunn bread that won Hunter a blue ribbon at the Robertson County fair, the slab of salty blue cheese blended with crème fraîche would have been too much cheese for one person's G.I. tract, but worked beautifully as a shared appetizer and should be reprised on the dessert list.
Anyone who thinks chicken has to be boring should check out Hunter's presentation over goat cheese risotto. The layered textures of crisp skin, succulent breast meat and creamy rice coupled with the balance of briny olive reduction and sweet apricot elevated the bird far above expectations.
A pair of unusually large grilled scallops served with arugula and roasted new potatoes recalled a beefy brace of tenderloin medallions, so much so that we assumed the dark pool of sauce was simply leftover from a beef offering and would overwhelm the delicate seafood. But Hunter's deft balancing of house-made veal and chicken stocks with sundried tomatoes, raisins and pine nuts showcased the scallops beautifully while delivering the hearty visual impression of meat and potatoes.
If there was one disappointment among our entrées, it was the plating of the salmon (a gorgeous seared plank with a delicate sandy coating) beside a puck of lemon-herb stuffing and a bundle of asparagus. While all the components were flavorful and well-crafted, there was little to marry them into a cohesive dish, and we ate the elements separately, like an à la carte trio.
In fact, it was the salmon that made us realize why we don't dine more often at Acorn despite the fact that the restaurant delights on so many levels. In the case of the succulent fish, price — not presentation — was the biggest turnoff. Acorn indeed delivers an excellent piece of seared salmon, but, at $25, it does so at a price far above comparable dishes at nearby restaurants, thus pricing itself out of the ranks of local neighborhood eateries.
So does that make it a date-night/special-occasion venue? Maybe. Though on one of our visits, our walk from the valet stand to the front door was accompanied by the booming narration of a basketball game being televised on the upstairs patio — not exactly the soundtrack to a romantic dîner à deux. Meanwhile, table service had the laissez-faire caprice of a friendly neighborhood restaurant, but if you're paying upward of $100 for dinner for two, you deserve a little more sense of occasion and attention to detail. Finally, browsing the cocktail roster, which included a Bad Girl, Pink Diamond and Strawberry Starburst, we got the feeling that we were out of place on a girls'-night-out booze cruise.
In short, it seems Acorn is suffering from an identity crisis, torn between corner restaurant, sassy bar and culinary destination. It's a schizophrenia we'd like to see resolved, because we like almost all the elements of Acorn's split personality.
Acorn serves dinner Monday through Saturday.
Email arts@nashvillescene.com.
Related Locations
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The Acorn [Closed]
- 114 28th Ave. N., Nashville Broadway/ The Gulch/ Music Row/ West End TN 37203
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320-4399
- www.theacornrestaurant.com
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