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Restaurant review: Silly Goose offers seriously good food

 

Nancy Vienneau | For The Tennessean
The Tennessean
September 16, 2011 ET

Almost two years ago, Rod­erick Bailey opened The Silly Goose, a charm­ing -- and tiny -- eatery in East­land Av­enue's Walden Center. Manned with a mere rice steam­er, pani­ni press and a pair of George Fore­man grills, Bailey demonstrated the breadth of fla­vorful cui­sine that could be conjured up in an econ­o­my of space, with an econ­o­my of tools.

Pi­quant couscous blends, stacked sal­ads, sa­vory sandwich constructions: Customers flocked, pa­tiently await­ing a place at one of the 19 seats, or got or­ders packed to go.

This May, Bailey closed the pe­tite cafe for needed expan­sion. Six weeks passed, and a spruced Silly Goose has debuted. Seating has grown to 46. Even better: Bailey's got a bonafide kitchen. With a six-burner commercial gas stove and convection oven at the Culinary In­stitute of America-trained chef's command, a world of cooking pos­sibilities has opened up.

The Goose has spread its wings.

In so do­ing, it's tak­en on a fresh look. Indus­trial meets whimsical; urbane moder­nity meets down-home country. Spare concrete is dressed up with an ornate mirror, retro artwork, a quirky chande­li­er. Ma­son jars filled with fresh flowers adorn ta­bles set with mis­matched silverware rolled in bright red ban­danas. Central is a long community table and benches, handcrafted from reclaimed wood. An­oth­er arti­san piece forms the bar countertop, where diners can pull up a stool and get a close-up view of the kitchen at work while they eat.

Cre­ative choic­es

A clipboard at each place setting holds the main menu. Longtime Silly Goose customers will find their fa­vorites -- King Kong Couscous, Simple Sal­ad, T-Bird Sandwich -- along­side expanded offerings.

That timbale of sesame-gin­ger spiced grains topped with curried shrimp, or local greens tossed with chili-grapefruit vinai­grette or rare roast beef and blue Gouda piled on sourdough are as tasty as ev­er. But oth­er menu additions beckon, choic­es that can accommodate vegetar­ian, vegan and gluten-free diets.

Wa­terfall is a lush sal­ad, a large bowl of butter lettuces fold­ed with myr­iad fruits: av­ocado, pineapple, mango, fig and dried cherries. Toast­ed co­riander brings a lit­tle bal­anc­ing heat to the pas­sionfruit dress­ing.

Beet lovers will rel­ish Dorothy Bailey, a deconstructed sal­ad where slices of chilled roast­ed beets are strewn with crumbled blue Gouda. Served along­side are sep­a­rate mounds of spinach, onion jam and flatbread crackers, united by a vibrant zigzag of sh­erry-garlic vinai­grette.

Af­ter 5 p.m., you'll find a small­er sheet on the menu clipboard, a concise list of new, dinner-only fare. Fur­ther, Bailey cre­ates of-the-mo­ment nightly specials.

The Silly Goose cheese tray is always a good start to the meal. It's an artful as­sembly of locally sourced cheeses. Se­lections of thomme, asiago, white cheddar and chevre from Kenny's Farm­house and No­ble Springs Dairy are plated with tart apples and marcona almonds, embellished with Jack­son Pollock-like vig­or: pours and scribbles of local hon­ey, arugula pesto, balsam­ic syrup and Sriracha sauce.

But newcom­er Flower Shop makes a nice starter, too. When served, a tall met­al cylinder is re­moved to re­veal a layered stack of artichoke hearts laced with black pep­per mascarpone, shiitakes, crem­i­n­is and oyster mush­rooms sautéed in brown butter. Dual sauces crisscross and comple­ment: walnut pesto topping and a delectable mustard-pinot noir emul­sion. Wow. A bowl of toast­ed bread trian­gles is right for mopping up the plate.

New also is The Hus­tler, a chicken-lentil entree boast­ing bold Indian spic­ing. Skewers of chicken breast are yogurt-marinated and grilled, served over a bowl of cumin-scented red lentils. A striping of tamarind and smoky red chili sauces fin­ishes the dish.

That same red chili paints meaty pork ribs, with differ­ent, but de­licious, results. Called Bubba French (a meld of South­ern good ol' boy and Con­tinental-style tastes?), planks of dry-rubbed and slow-roast­ed loin ribs tower in the plate center, bracketed by cool sides: fennel slaw and sliced ripe mel­ons.

Your serv­er will de­scribe night specials. Bailey does beautiful work with sea scallops, a crisp, almost black sear encas­ing plump, succu­lent in­te­riors. One evening, he nes­tled four in a bowl of spicy red pep­per-tomato broth mounded with fresh fried corn. An­oth­er evening, he placed them in a cool­ing yel­low wa­termel­on gazpacho dressed with cilantro oil.

You could slip next door to the new neigh­bor, Jeni's Splendid, for dessert. But Silly sweets have plenty to offer. Fresh peach cobblers and blueberry crisps arrive bubbly from the oven. Caramelized peaches napped in vanilla-thyme mascarpone are less sweet but no less rich­er.

And Silly Goose has always made terrif­ic ice cream. The signa­ture Hon­ey Beet is an earthy-sweet shock of fuchsia. We've enjoyed oth­er innovative fla­vors, too, as they've appeared at whim, in the dai­ly rotation: lemon-saffron-goat cheese, or­ange-ha­banero-chocolate, and a dreamy or­ange-vanilla bean that re­m­inded us, happily, of a Creamsicle.

Despite its growth, what hasn't been lost is The Silly Goose's cheerful vibe, an unpre­tentious, enthu­sias­tic spirit. It's a place to enjoy se­rious good food, in a light-heart­ed way.

We also suspect, that, despite its growth, it still may not be quite big enough.

Source: The Tennessean
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Restaurant review: Silly Goose offers seriously good food
Nancy Vienneau | For The Tennessean
credit: JOHN PARTIPILO / THE TENNESSEAN
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