"Champagne problems" might be my favorite new expression. There are various definitions circulating among online slang references, but the general gist is that a Champagne problem is a grievance that doesn't compare to a real problem such as poverty, war, famine and the like. It might even serve to illustrate your good fortune.
For example, a ding on your Tesla is a Champagne problem. Size 4 skinny jeans too loose? Champagne problem.
When it comes to reviewing restaurants, my reporter's notebook positively bubbles with Champagne problems. Pork-belly-and-deviled-egg overload. Cocktail-choice paralysis. Farm-to-table fatigue. Pop! Pop! Pop!
(I've said it before, and I'll say it again: It's a great time to be dining in Music City.)
And yet the thing about Champagne problems is that no matter how high on the pyramid of needs they may be, they still need to be addressed. That's especially true in Nashville restaurants, because diners have so many excellent alternatives these days, they don't need to put up with problems, Champagne or otherwise.
Such was our conclusion after two dinners at Antica, the easygoing tapas restaurant that opened in November in the former Otter's Chicken Tenders space in the 5th & Main development in East Nashville. Our visits included several inventive recipes served by friendly, low-key staff, in a proverbial clean, well-lighted place; but quality was inconsistent and below the new high standard met by so many other establishments in the neighborhood.
Call it a Champagne problem, but as we sipped gin-and-fennel cocktails and sampled imperfect and incongruous dishes such as cheese-covered seafood risotto and tiny deviled quail eggs — beneath a squall of Led Zeppelin in a near-empty dining room — we wondered just what appetite Antica sought to satisfy and what vibe it wanted to create. Co-owners Ash Johnson, Chris Stowe and Kaz Hishida are working to remedy that confusion, rolling out a summer menu that focuses more clearly on shared plates than did the previous two-pronged menu of tapas and entrées. The new menu, which debuted after our visits but overlaps significantly with the old menu, ranges from fries with curry ketchup ($5) to lobster risotto ($20), with most dishes priced below $10. Going forward, managing co-owner Johnson predicts the menu will be 50 percent vegetarian, with new additions such as grilled leeks, sautéed mushrooms and heirloom tomatoes with ricotta.
Our favorite dish was four tiny ribs of medium-rare lamb with chimichurri, fries and masala ketchup. (Actually, we couldn't find any of the promised chimichurri, but the lamb was cooked perfectly and stood on its own flavor.) Exemplifying the new emphasis on shared items, the chimichurri lamb remains but sans frites and with a lower price point ($12), intended as a finger food.
Another relative standout making the cut is pork belly with mustard caviar, molasses and dried apple. The rustic presentation of fried dice-sized cubes was innovative and indulgent, though the mustard grain lacked tang, allowing syrup to overwhelm with sticky-sweet monotony.
Antica prepares an arresting gnocchi dish with baby scallops, pickled tomatoes, beets, mushrooms, asiago and corn in a creamy bath, but deep-frying the gnocchi resulted in a tough chewiness that detracted overall.
Barbecue-braised short rib with whipped parsnips and bright-green sautéed collards makes for a welcome spin on standard meat and potatoes, but that dish now rolls off the main menu and onto a Sunday brunch roster.
Other noteworthy plates along the way included a foursome of raw baby scallops, cured by the salt in kelp, and topped with sliced radish, pea puree and amarillo hot chili paste. One order would make a good amuse bouche for four people.
Value-for-volume diners might enjoy catfish cakes, golden panko-encrusted croquettes of minced fish, served with a familiar sweet-chili sauce. (Johnson says he is moving to a house-made version of the sauce.) At $10, the generous serving of four patties is an affordable way to tackle hunger among so many diminutive plates. By comparison, a $5 slider — stacked with bland mustard caviar and stewed tomato and onion on toasted brioche — seemed pricey, not to mention unwieldy in its verticality.
Economically speaking, it would make more sense to order a $9 foursome of curried meatballs with tomato jam and melted manchego instead of the $5 slider, and the flavor profile would still satisfy any tomato craving.
We are encouraged by several edits to the menu. The bland duxelle-stuffed potato and slimy mushroom caps with Parmesan have been 86-ed, and the greasy cold salad of grouper cheeks tossed in butter will be replaced with beer-battered grouper with fries and grilled lemon.
However, our least favorite dish remains. The lobster risotto was so overwhelmed by smoked paprika and melted brie that subtler flavors of fennel, tarragon, sweet peppers and claw meat went largely undetected, and the mound of cheese-coated al dente rice went largely uneaten.
Thinking back on our experiences, there were two aspects of our meals that consistently impressed: cocktails and desserts. We enjoyed inventive and well-priced drinks mixed with imaginative ingredients such as fig puree, blood orange shrub, beet, jalapeño and lavender honey. On one visit we were lucky enough to discover fresh watermelon juice for a nonalcoholic alternative.
And we enjoyed both desserts on offer: chocolate custard with chewy shards of butter toffee and a memorable deconstructed carrot cake — two fluffy spiced pillows plated with rosemary-infused buttercream and currant chutney. We would have ordered dessert again on our follow-up visit, but the limited selection was the same, and we didn't want to repeat. Instead, we contemplated our dessert options at the many excellent restaurants nearby. There were so many alternatives in East Nashville and Germantown, we just couldn't make up our minds. Talk about a Champagne problem.
Antica is open from 4:30 to 11 p.m. Monday through Saturday and 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday.
Email arts@nashvillescene.com.
