John Tesar hits his stride with Spoon, Dallas’ best seafood
PRAWN SHOP | Trumpets of housemade penne entwine tomato sauce while a jumbo shrimp provides the protein in one of the impressive dishes at John Tesar’s Spoon. (Arnold Wayne Jones/Dallas Voice)
ARNOLD WAYNE JONES | Life+Style Editor
“Spoon” is a peculiar name for a restaurant in which eating with a spoon is more the exception than the rule; it wasn’t until my second visit to this Preston Center eatery that I actually consumed a dish with a spoon, and that was about three courses in. But anyone who has followed John Tesar’s career knows that he’s not about doing things easily.
He arrived in Dallas to head the kitchen at The Mansion on Turtle Creek (a turbulent tenure best remembered for his fine cooking) then ventured into more casual concepts: developing the menu at The Cedars Social, and opening his now-shuttered burger joint, The Commissary, in One Arts Plaza. Then there was — just prior to Spoon’s opening last December — his stint on Top Chef, where he became viewers’ (and his fellow contestants’) love-to-hate guy.
He must be aware of his rep. I assume he doesn’t care. (“Write what you want to about me,” Tesar whispered to me recently, “but you can’t say I don’t work hard.”)
True that. On most days at Spoon, you can observe Tesar in the open kitchen toiling alongside his sous and line cooks with methodical, intense attention. He primps each dish like a teenager on prom night, sending out plated art meant to be as eye-catching as it is mouth-watering. And you can’t say he doesn’t know his stuff.
Chef/owner John Tesar in the kitchen at Spoon.
Doing a seafood restaurant in America’s largest city not on a navigable waterway may seem like a fool’s errand, but that’s 20th century thinking. We live in an era of overnight delivery and cell phones, where trawlers can literally call chefs and ask them if they have a need for a fresh halibut still flopping around on the deck. (Kent Rathbun of Abacus is an inveterate employer of that tactic.) We don’t need to be by an ocean to get great seafood, and Tesar is certainly filling a need. Along with authentic high-end Northern Italian cuisine, Dallas has long been a desert when it comes to exclusively seafood restaurants. Spoon not only delivers, it surpasses expectations. (In January, I named it one of my top 3 new restaurants.)
The first thing you notice walking in is what you do not notice: The aroma of fish. Next not noticed: Kitschy nautical décor — at least not much, save whimsical abstract fish art on one wall and a seafoam palette that conjures rather than shouts “ahoy!” This isn’t Red Lobster; it’s fine dining with a finned flourish.
True, fish is the principal protein on site (the menu, which declares “we are a seafood restaurant,” begrudgingly offers land-based meats for the less adventuresome — probably not a bad idea in beef country). But really, the fish dishes are framed by classic techniques on more universal themes. Take the lobster agnolotti, a kind of ravioli ensconcing the delicate flavors of lobster knuckles, augmented lobster-infused butter. At $39, it ain’t cheap, but it demonstrates Tesar’s mastery at fusing seafood with pasta. He does similarly (though not quite as successfully) with the housemade penne — curled trumpets of pasta trapping in the tomato sauce as a whole prawn balances on top.
If you’re looking for economy, look elsewhere, although at $125, the chef’s tasting menu — six courses (plus an amuse and a dessert) — is a decent route to the full experience, treating diners to the highlights from the kitchen, and well worth the price.
The menu changes seasonally, so items will vary, as will preparations. The white sturgeon, aside from being slightly over-salty, was a phenomenal piece of flesh: firm but tender, and grounded with the faint vegetal touch of celery root puree. Octopus poached in red wine also combines a terrestrial element with the addition of a bone marrow side.
Remarkably, desserts are also impressive (I enjoyed a lemon tart shaved with gold filigree), while the wine and cocktail menu shows depth behind the bar.
There’s a fair amount of bluster in the description of the items as well as a twee sensibility — “lobster coral and milk foam;” “compressed Fuji apples” — but that’s par for the course these days. The truth is, details are what distinguish a fine-dining establishment, from the array of craft salts to the beautiful dishware.
The high-end aspects of service have always been top-notch (the greeting, the professionalism, the knowledge, the politeness). What has been hit-or-miss is the follow-through: Drinks have languished unrefilled, and for the new lunch menu our waiter simply forgot to bring the de rigueur complimentary basket of bread to our table (everyone else seemed to get one). At least errors are expediently remedied.
Then there’s that puzzling name again. Well, not puzzling, really. Tesar isn’t referring to utensil — he’s referencing that intimacy when you’re comfortably in love and can’t wait to get closer to someone. We get it: We spoon Spoon, too.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition June 7, 2013.