Leftovers from Ella, or, A View From the Other Side of the Roulette Wheel
Restaurant consistency is a prickly issue. Sometimes I think eating out is like spinning a roulette wheel: Which version of of that dish, heck, that entire eatery will show up this time? Because I can say with certainty that I’ve experienced major service glitches and off-dishes in all of the very best restaurants in town save for Kihachi and The Refectory.
Where am I going with this? Well I just read a less-than-favorable review of a new place—Ella—that I favorably reviewed this week (considering I work for the same company but work completely independently from the other reviewer, I guess it’s that great roulette wheel in the sky spinning away again). Anyway, in the other review, there was much damning-to-Ella talk about long waits and too much salt. On multiple visits, I didn’t experience any of that—and I’m keenly attuned to excessive salting and I hate waiting for anything. Believe me, I do not for a second doubt the veracity or validity of the other reviewers’ impressions—they simply do not match up with mine.
Here’s a few leftover impressions of what I did experience from the nifty Ella (a new New Albany restaurant-slash-art gallery) that, due to word count and paper space restrictions, didn’t make it into this week’s Alive.
Ella’s Whisky-Fix Manhattan was one of the better versions I’ve had lately. Complex and balanced, it was made with Booker’s Bourbon, killer Cocchi vermouth, Grand Marnier and one of those great Luxardo cherries (pictured is a half pour — they kindly split it for us).
Not pictured: a sweet-ish (it’d be good with dessert) Tessora Fiore. Made with Watershed gin, Tessora Limone (which the friendly waiter informed us was New Albany’s biggest export—surely a short list!), fresh lime juice and hibiscus flower powder, it tasted kinda like a spiked fresh lemonade.
This picture of Ella’s Pork “Wings” captures the restaurant’s occasional—but not silly!— sense of whimsy. Made with locally raised pig meat, (this place—which employs talented chefs drawn in from G.Michael’s and Z Cucina— is all all about the local) they’re carved to kinda resemble chicken wings, and instead of a blue cheese sauce, they’re paired with a tangy sauce (it looks a bit like mustard in the picture) said to be made with molten Manchego cheese.
Maybe this poutine-like appetizer special was called “Canadian Hockey Fries” because the jo-jo potatoes it was made with were the size of hockey sticks. Fun, and I loved the housemade mozzarella curds.
The entree sandwiches on Ella’s manageable one page menu (like this terrific smoked chicken breast) come with enticingly crispy, dark cooked and ungreasy housemade chips with a little—but not overplayed—edge of sweetness.
But if you want, you can sub in an alternate side with your sandwich, like this generously sized serving of buttery and nicely al dente seasonal vegetables (it being being winter, they were roasted Brussels sprouts, carrots, potatoes and onions—simple but nice).
This nightly dessert special, which sort of looked like a Faberge egg, lived up to its presentation by delivering a little treasure of flavor. It’s a port wine poached pear served with crunchy, candied almonds and a smooth “Tessora white chocolate sabayon” (a custardy French sauce derived from the Italian Zabaglione). Though the pear could’ve been cooked longer (we needed a knife to slice through it), this was my kind of meal-finisher: Aromatic, not sweet; refreshing, not heavy.
On an ending note, I’d like to mention that during one dinner at Ella, a well-dressed and very sincere lady quietly approached our table and asked about our meals (for the record: I never introduce myself and make every possible attempt to dine anonymously). I told her our meals were great—which they were. She shook our hands, thanked us, and informing us that she was Hayley, the owner, she went on to say “This place is my lifeblood.”
