I'm fairly certain that the tomato, a thin slice demurely tucked beneath a dainty pile of meticulously diced vegetables, was intended to be nothing more than a quiet grace note. But to my taste buds it was a triumphal fanfare.
Finally, here it was, the tomato that I impatiently wait for every summer, the one that spends weeks being pampered and coddled by sunshine and showers until it fairly bursts with a ripe, juicy shimmer, the one that puts all greenhouse wannabes to shame. That I was enjoying it at Corner Table came as no surprise, because chef/owner Scott Pampuch has a nose like a truffle-sniffing sow when it comes to finding worthy local ingredients. When Midwestern farms are harvesting like crazy, this is one place this diner definitely wants to be: front and center.
Like that night. We took a perch at the restaurant's short bar, ordered the tasting menu and watched chef de cuisine Lisa Hanson calmly work her considerable magic at the stove. Hiring her was the smartest move Pampuch has made, at least since he made the decision to go out on his own four years ago. She's got the goods -- and the big-league New York City résumé -- and together she and Pampuch are cooking with discernment and grace.
I'm also thinking -- OK, hoping -- that relying upon Hanson's considerable prowess will give Pampuch more time for another passion of his: talking. Specifically, chatting up the importance of locally produced foods. It is a subject that can never have too many advocates. He already treats his kitchen as a bully pulpit, using his first-name-basis relationships with farmers far and wide to nail down ingredients and then treat them with the deference they deserve but rarely enjoy.
A meal to remember
Hanson follows suit. What a meal we had that evening. After that tomato, I knew that we were in good hands, and I was not proven wrong. Much of our dinner was inspired by dishes already on the menu, but Hanson seemed to be inserting just enough spontaneity to keep us guessing.
First came chicken two ways, with sumptuous livers over brioche, and then a smooth, mellow rillette topped with sprightly microgreens. Spears of what are probably the last of the year's asparagus were nicely grilled and seasoned with a smoky bacon vinaigrette.
That was followed by one of Team Pampuch-Hanson's great standouts: shredded pork, slow-cooked in fat so that it rather luxuriously melts in your mouth. That night, Hanson was serving it over creamy grilled polenta and finished her thought with just the right tang, a handful of skinny sweet-and sour pickles. I'm hardly a card-carrying member of the Clean Plate Club, but I didn't miss a morsel of that meal.
