One of my most critical reviews—and that’s saying a mouthful—was the one I wrote in early 1995 after visiting the H.R.H. Dumplin’s that had just opened next door to Green Hills Grille. To this day, it still comes up in conversations.“Well, that was a pretty bad review,” people will tell me, “but nothing like the one you gave that H.R.H. Dumplin’s place.” I’ll admit that it was scathing, taking the food to task, along with the service and the very concept of the place.
Not long afterward, this particular H.R.H. Dumplin’s franchise closed its doors. Some months later, a Boston Market franchise opened at the same location, where it continues to thrive. After my review was published, the owner of two successful H.R.H. Dumplin’s franchises in Franklin cried foul, claiming that each H.R.H. Dumplin’s is different from all the others, depending on the franchise owner.
I kept that in mind when I visited the new H.R.H. Dumplin’s franchise, located in the heart of Green Hills, in a strip shopping center between Imagination Crossroads and Classic Gourmet. Well, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I hate repeating myself, so I’ll keep this brief: It was dçjà vu all over again. The menu I encountered at my first Dumplin’s visit was exactly the same as the one I encountered this time around—homemade chicken and dumplings, homemade casserole of the day, homemade quiche of the day, homemade soup of the day, several salads (if you like iceberg, you’re in luck), a few sandwiches, a section of “fitness selections,” and a column devoted to “fabulous desserts.”
I questioned the owner of this particular H.R.H. Dumplin’s about the “homemade” claim, and he swore the menu wasn’t lying. I suppose it depends on your definition of “homemade.” The homemade chicken and dumplings, for instance, uses a dumpling product that comes from a company called Quality Chef’s Food, which apparently uses the secret H.R.H. Dumplin’s recipe. The other ingredients include processed white-meat chicken and chicken stock. (It wasn’t quite clear to me if the chicken and the stock had been “processed” in the same place.)
I suppose I have a different definition of “homemade.” On the other hand, if I browned a pound of ground beef in my own kitchen, then added a box of Hamburger Helper and some water, I guess the result would technically be homemade. So there you go.
H.R.H. Dumplin’s salads are pre-made, then refrigerated, so they arrive at the table icy cold. Such is the case even with the diced chicken breast in the grilled chicken salad. Its serving temperature effectively froze out any semblance of flavor, and we had to inspect it for grill marks.
I made two visits to this Dumplin’s—for dinner first, then for lunch. An ad in a local parenting newspaper informed me that there was a separate children’s menu, as well as a separate dinner menu, but we saw neither, in spite of the fact that we were a party of two moms and three children—three antsy and hungry children who kept whining, “But don’t they have hot dogs or chicken nuggets?” Well, Dumplin’s not only serves chicken nuggets; grilled cheese, peanut butter and jelly, pizza, and spaghetti are available too.
The dinner menu, which we weren’t given a chance to see on our evening visit, includes a ham dinner, a baked stuffed pork chop, a 10-ounce or 8-ounce filet, a New York strip, a pasta of the day, a catch of the day, and shrimp kabobs. In all fairness, when I returned for lunch, I asked the manager why we hadn’t seen these menus at dinner two nights before, and he comped my lunch. That was nice.
Also nice are the rolls (eat them while they’re hot); all of the quiches we sampled, including the “fitness” version; the sandwiches (though it was hard to distinguish the chicken salad from the tuna salad—both were bland); the apple dumplin’; and the Italian coconut cake.
I admit, the H.R.H. Dumplin’s concept escapes me. It’s sort of tearoom/ladies food, sort of meat ’n’ three, sort of fast casual, sort of family dining—but in reality, it’s none of the above. The owner tells me the place is in the midst of a reassessment, listening to customers to see what they want. My advice? Start from scratch—and I mean, in every possible way.
H.R.H. Dumplin’s is located at 3900 Hillsboro Pike, Suite 14 (615-463-8779).
Grand openings
Meanwhile, I see great promise in the openings, last week, of two restaurants, breaking a lengthy drought of options for better dining.
After extensive remodeling, The Trace has opened in the former Faison’s location. Visually, the place is already a winner (the dynamic duo—Manuel and Patrick—strikes again), and I predict heavy schmoozing around the main bar and in the front room. The menu leans to light Italian and is refreshingly simple. In his opening menu, Chef Freddy Brooker doesn’t seem to have been struck by the need to pile it on. In my view, simple is good, simple can be great, but simple is by no means easy. There’s not much place to hide when the recipe includes only ingredients.
I also like complex marriages of flavor and influence, but only when the elements are in perfect harmony. It’s an art, and few in Nashville manage it better than chef Debra Paquette, of the original Cakewalk, then Bound’ry, and now back on the site of Cakewalk, but this time around as a co-owner with her husband, Ernie Paquette, and Vicki and Rick Bolsam. It is now entirely up to Debra to prove or disprove my theory that the best restaurants in a city are the chef-owned restaurants.
After a week of redecorating, rearranging,
and renaming, the restaurant formerly known as Cakewalk will now be called Zola (although the Cakewalk sign will remain). Paquette has totally reworked the menu, which shows Mediterranean influences, beginning in Spain, then working its way through France, Turkey, Egypt, and Syria.
The Trace, owned by Greg Scockro and Herb Allen and managed by veteran James Weathers, is open seven days a week, 4 p.m.-3 a.m. Food is served until 11 p.m.
Zola serves dinner every evening, except Sundays. 5:30-10 p.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 5:30-11 p.m. Fri. & Sat.
Staked out
When I moved to Nashville 17 years ago, I was struck by how many times biscuits were served—on top of a meal, under a meal, or as the meal itself. Back then, someone took me to a place called Ireland’s, where the speciality of the house was “Stake & Biscuits.” The deliberate misspelling was as curious as the dish itself. Much to the delight of many Nashvillians who have craved stake and biscuits since Ireland’s closed soon after I arrived in town, the legend is back.
Ireland’s reopened Monday in its former location at 204 21st Ave. S. The signature dish is back (five biscuits with tenderloin, buried under a pile of french fries) and costs just $6.95. Also on the comeback trail is their wildly popular fudge pie.
Ireland’s is open seven days a week. 11 a.m.-1 a.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 11 a.m.-2 a.m. Fri. & Sat.; 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Sun.
