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  • Writer's picturedillicious


talking myself to the airport and on road trips, i adore so endlessly. however, those of you who know me, know: when dillicious is salt laked: i act as tho driving past twenty first south a trek of such ferocious distance i may have to plan a day trip just to accommodate. recently however, the world has taught me this lesson: step away from the fear of commute. what if it were to cause me to miss out on something beautiful?? that, that is something we (yes we, being: the collective whole of the human race, without regard to exclusively dillicious readers) simply cannot miss. wether you declare yourself an urbanite, like i do. or: you laugh at my anxiety over a fifteen minute commute. get in your car, do it now, drive south on highland drive and take a left onto 3350 south. park and exit your car. walk through the brick and glass exterior of Table X: where the real journey begins

i suggest requesting a lavish black leather, high-backed booth and schedule your visit with the ever hospitable [& handsome] dave. tho, i’m sure your table will be x-ed with precision regardless of server or seating choice. preparing our oral canvas to be pleasantly accosted by an art piece of flavour, my groupies and i employed a nice bubbles rinse courtesy of an ever charming bottle of faire la fete. more simply put, this is the cheekiest way i can think to type: we started drinking before ordering. a decision all of which i have to remark is: “hello prosecco, its always so deeply lovely to be caressed by your your smart invitation again.”

at a restaurant such as this where much of the produce is grown on site, in their own garden, the menu has been “in the oven” for weeks, if not longer. due to: i must urge all of you toward the chefs tasting and have faith that no matter what some bewitching human will deliver to your table, it will arrive with a level of thoughtful uniqueness that couldn't disappoint even the most scrupulous a critic. be darling, be smart. nobody in their right mind ever signed up to take a class, went the first day, read the syllabus and decided only three topics on the page would be education enough. see the menu at table x as a syllabus. where, the chefs have something to profess to you during your visit. take the entire course. both your mouth and your mind have something beautiful they can, and will want to learn.

the menu changes often, as such so does what one might learn during their visit. our curriculum was inaugurated with the perfect neutralizing flavour/texture blend, brought to you, [and how else] in the form of a perfectly chintzy tulle. //left// which is a cracker of seeds held together using a sticky, viscous something; in this case a local honey. immediately following our seedy introduction we were presented with chunks of perfectly crunchy tho light and bubbly sourdough //right// with butter the kitchen is culturing at the restaurant. now deemed prepared to commence- our senses are attacked in ways unexpected.​the first course was served before we had been given silverware. “i urge you to play with your food” we were told, as a stone dish carpeted by a vibrant fuchsia smear was left at the table with glistening cauliflower and radish. the smear? a red beet curry, so fiercely playing the texture game, it could not have complimented the brined [lightly pickled] vegetables impressive crunch better than it did. this luscious duality intensified the bold curry flavor subtly housed within the “beet”-up goodness all of which had been too cleverly disguised as an artists brush stroke.

next: a crispy dense piece of pullman bread //bottom circular// peppered and dressed with a caramelized kelp cream played to the other end of our textural pallet. the bread was explained as a texas toast of sorts. the kelp similar to a sauerkraut bursting with flavor. i have to say; never have i ever been in texas and offered a rich morsel moment so memorable. tho.. if that’s how it works down south i ought spend more time there. each course of the meal moved you on a textural journey just as much as a flavour voyage, from one wickedly dillicious dish to the next. evident again, as the crisp crunch the pullman provided palatal preparation for the next treat //behind// to arrive floating about in a sensational light, but surprisingly robust dashi broth. swimming amongst a curation of vegetables; clams so pleased, “happy as a clam” doesn’t begin

to describe the dish. accompanied by a salty pita-esque sort of, yet another appropriately planned; house bread. perfect for soaking up broth, better yet, perfect for scooping nibbles [mouthfuls] of crisp watercress or pea tendril, hand-in-hand with their happy clam friends, directly into your face- which i am here to tell you: made me quite happy as a clam indeed.

when eating so much food in a single evening: it. is. lovely. to be granted an opportunistically timed wait. that moment for a breath, to “wine” about it, and chat with your deeply charming dinner company. [of which; without -i must side not

e- one should really never table x with any less than thee most supreme of company.] i wish i would have thought to invite the ever witty. mr. evan lawandowski to join us for dinner. tho, as i foolishly did not, we invited a bottle of his extraordinary BOAZ //right// to join us at the table in his stead. harvested from the testa vineyard in mendocino county; the carignan grape typically utilized in blends, stands alone in this unique natural wine and provided a stunning setting for anything we munched on between sips. medium to medium plus body and a sharp but lovable acid profile stood up well against even the biggest of flavours, while a mildly herbaceous finish sang songs with lighter flavours so glorious handel would have to compose a new messiah to harmonize appropriately.

the main event, a beautifully glazed short rib on a date with a ravishing whole roasted parsnip followed after a few moments to sip. i might should hesitate to chastise the source of any such aptitude as this. however, if i had to offer, some constructive criticism. it is at this point, in my notes for the evening, you might find an alarming red ink post-it note that reads: “don’t over cook the protein” & “what the fuck are these mushrooms even thinking about doing here.” i do so appreciate any endorsement of the dillicious pallet and/or taste in food: and in honesty, it requires a new level of hypercritical to identify these contrived dillicious proclaimed error. that said even inexplicable mushrooms should not overshadow the brilliance of the burnt molasses glaze on the rib. as that, would be true error. sweet and sticky with a perfect charred flavour the glaze added a momentum reversing weight to the dish that only molasses could. causing flavour explosions to occur at a slower rate than normal, allowing the gusto to fill undiscovered parts of your mouth with new twists on classic flavours- creating uncharted territory you were not even aware you had been missing. an age old conundrum: “how do i make beautiful all of these roasted things while adding some colour?” a query solved best as they do at table x, of course. perfectly prepared to offer contrasting drool worthiness a citrus carrot puree adorns the plate creating a vibrantly coloured back drop keeping even this most standard cut of meat looking fresh to death. we enjoyed every last bite and the carnage from our feast was removed.

we may have began to wonder if there could possibly be any more room in our bodies to go on. then the kitchen offered a benediction with not one, but two, saccharine dessert options; so dillicious in presentation the space for more, simply materialized. the perfectly portioned slice of a pecan torte cut long and thin confused the senses by seeming a morsel. accompanied by a tangy citrus pumpkin sorbetto together with friendly segments of grapefruit and mango, it practically smiled at you from the plate. bright sunny flavours perfectly intensified the decadently rich butteriness of the gram cracker crust married effortlessly to roasty-toasty nuttiness. i worry only that, i may never see pecan confections the same again. dessert two of two was feeling shy. perhaps this is why the bowl arrived hatted by a waffle cone hiding whatever brilliance lie

in wait beneath. furnishing another chance to play with our food; a swift crack to the waffle cone and a dessert ceiling gave way to an exquisite espresso gelato. carrying about flecks of coffee bean and dancing with house made mini marshmallow i couldn't have conceived my new favorite dessert better myself. unless of course, i had not thought to include a burnt caramel sauce, as the chef’s did. thank an über-being they did, as i learned what culinary nirvana ought to feel like. all thanks to a waffle cone and coffee, things i thought i knew all there was to know about.

at dillicious we are blessed with an unrivaled chance to enjoy thee very most intensely divine of all things consumable. however, if we could [please] make a request to the world: a course in culinary curation is being offered within the brick and glass walls of table x. go. attend the lecture. take this chance to learn. train yourself to cook clever and employ brainy brilliance like the virtuoso minds at table x. if there is one thing our handsome terra, really, desperately needs as we hurdle thru the vastness of the universe it is more opportunity to discover dillicious. more of the best. more TABLE X! without a doubt: the very most dillicious culinary experience salt lake city, if not perhaps the world has ever set before my hungry mouth.

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