Dine out

     Indeed, each of the dishes placed simultaneously before us that evening was an artful habitat, evoking the natural context of the season or the main ingredient in one way or another: a confit of rabbit leg and loin, infused with wood, came to us in a pot with juniper, twigs of salsify and black garlic “soil,” while an egg became the perfect serving vessel for a frothy, maple syrup-infused custard.

     Normally quite the chatterbox, my niece turned silent when the next dish was placed before her: a colorful collection of pickled vegetables, not chopped or diced, but thinly shaved and rolled into tubes that actually stood up in a soup bowl of chilled consommé. Each flavor—a beet! a radish! a leek!—was intensely distinct and yet an essential element in the dish as a whole. The theme was repeated later in the jewel-like “chorizo bouillon,” with pillows of manchego gnocchi, pop-in-your-mouth capsules of cuttlefish ink, chorizo oil and cuttlefish squares. It was, like everything at Town House, both a visual and a sensual stunner. Unrecognizable until it was in my mouth, asparagus from the morning market had been pureed until silky smooth and was topped with clouds of spiced butter and chive blossoms—an ideal bathing pool for a delicate soft shell crab. Rhubarb appeared not in a pie but in a glass as a palate-cleansing juice, sipped through a twig-like vanilla straw.    Inspired by nature and by her own cravings, Urie creates complex, symphonic desserts that are both familiar and other-worldly. She uses liquid nitrogen (to freeze everything from ice-cream to bananas) as some might use butter. Her corner of the kitchen is a true laboratory, fitted with equipment and substances that can help her confectionary visions take beautiful, delicious form on the plate. I could recognize the mountain shapes in her “purple mountains” (frozen yogurt mounds coated in black sesame) and the moss-like pistachio-coated truffle, but to taste them was a different experience altogether. A marshmallow tinged with soy? Layers of hardwood-smoked chocolate spiced with Indian curry? Never has small-town America felt so distinctly foreign and new.

     We found ourselves asking time and again, in between long, slow bites: How did they make this? What is that flavor?

     Like so many of the cutting-edge, haute cuisine restaurants drawing diners to small towns in northern Spain these days, Town House proves that world-class dining can thrive in quiet, unsuspecting places, right here at home. As we were saying our good-byes and heading for the door, Urie handed us black-olive caramels in edible lemon wrappers, thus ending the meal where it began. We popped them in our mouths and, once out the door, began plotting our next trip to Chilhowie.

Town House

132 E. Main Street

Chilhowie, Virginia 24319

276.646.8787