Editor's note: CL food critic Jon Palmer Claridge is in Nashville doing "research." This is part of an ongoing series sharing his culinary adventures.
It's rare these days to experience the design and culinary elegance associated with the 1930s. We've gotten less formal and fussy than the days of Fred and Ginger. The channel-tufted velvet banquettes and over-the-top crystal chandeliers of the era have mostly gone the way of lobster Thermidor and baked Alaska flambéed at the table. Our cuisine now generally eschews the sauce-laden excessive richness that dominated the era.
So you can imagine my shock when I walk up stairs at a former bank building in downtown Nashville only to see a pair of lions and giant lantern sconces flanking the ornate wooden doorway of a new restaurant. "What a throwback," I mutter. But when I enter the door, my breath is immediately taken away.
The interior of Jeff Ruby's Steakhouse is a marvel. Chandeliers are everywhere. The huge bar to the right is adjacent to what could be a WPA mural. The bar itself is an enormous, bottle-lined stepped platform, glowing speakeasy purple and topped with a Music City hipster tickling the ivories of a white baby grand. The walls are lined with Tamara de Lempicka's familiar Art Deco canvases, and raised booths, clad in the aforementioned tufted velvet, are everywhere you look. It's a beautiful, deep sunset orange cloth trimmed in vintage green before quilted fabric walls. I expect Al Capone to walk in any minute.
Actually, the red-themed dining room to the left has a mantle that previously graced one of the famous gangster's abodes. The men's room design is full bore Art Deco barbershop. There are also wonderful private dining areas with separate terraces and hanging lights with tiered period milk glass. But most welcome and impressive is a menu featuring some long-forgotten dishes I never thought I'd see again.
When's the last time you had Dover sole filleted at your table? How about lobster Thermidor served on a giant butcher block? The whole huge coral body bisected from head to tail and stuffed with chunks of succulent cold water lobster mixed with sautéed shrimp and Alaskan red king crab bathed in brandy cream with tarragon, then finished with crisp bread crumbs. One side is cradled by cauliflower florets and halved Brussels sprouts; the other is a huge Lincoln log stack of thick, green, glistening asparagus. It's like being in a culinary time machine.
But the lineup also offers a fabulous array of prime steaks and sushi, plus a seafood bar topped with an enormous king crab on a bed of ice uplit with a striking ultraviolet glow. You can have an au courant honey-glazed crispy Berkshire pork belly with crunchy pink peppercorn apple slaw, or revel in classic oysters Rockefeller, potatoes Anna and Béarnaise sauce.
The iconic baked Alaska almost never appears on menus anymore. Roux's experiment, which I reviewed favorably, was sadly dropped for lack of interest. Ruby's version is really an old-school rarity (flambéed tableside) but with a delicious tropical twist: coconut cake and key lime frozen yogurt enrobed in a sweet meringue plated with molasses Anglaise.
Though Jeff Ruby made his name in Cincinnati, his Nashville location has established itself as a go-to special celebration location in two months. I love it just for the splendid, carefully designed period decor, but the time travel aspects of the menu are unusual indeed. If exquisite culinary nostalgia has any allure for you, add this one to the bucket list.
This article appears in Aug 25 – Sep 1, 2016.