Maplewood has become for restaurants what Denver is for dispensaries: You can’t walk along Manchester or Sutton without hitting an alluring dining establishment.
Now Elmwood’s joined the party, bringing with it a contemporary cool, with black walls, a concrete floor, polished wood tables, beautifully glazed ceramics (created and signed bythe chef/co-owner’s uncle), and a kitchen behind glass. The best seats in the place face into it, transforming meal prep into a multicourse floor show.
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The bar is longer than the wait without reservations, but it’s situated so as not to intrude into the dining area.
Punchy Plantation dark rum and a High West double rye are among the ingredients in the impressive list of cocktails. They pair nicely with “shareables,” those appetizer portions renamed to make dinner seem like jolly noshing with friends. Elmwood goes down the well-traveled road of small plates but does a stylish job of it and cannily includes some larger plates as well.
Glistening plump oysters are arranged on a bed of sea salt, then coal roasted. On our visit, they were delicate Hangtowns, a Puget Sound hybrid: sweet and buttery, with a tang of smoke. Cucumbers sound ordinary; marinated with jalapeño, lime, and cilantro, they are crunchy, amazing. Similarly, peanuts go from the pedestrian to the memorable with the addition of Turkish marash chili powder and a touch of lemongrass. The iconic Tiffany’s Original Diner, across the street, should learn the prestidigitation that Elmwood works with twice-fried potatoes, giving them a crispy exterior and pillowy interior, then slapping them with a lively crimson harissa. The potatoes exemplify the best of the place: a simple concept given just the right zip to make it special.
Elmwood has what might be the most inventive presentation of mussels in town: A bowlful of luscious chubby shellfish, harvested from Maine’s Casco Bay, are fragrant with Szechuan spiced oil and cilantro. They’re dumped over a helping of shoestring potatoes.The oil filters down into the potatoes, imbuing them with a warm, aromatic flavor. You’ll find yourself scraping the last of those string spuds from the platter.
Sumac, thyme, salt: Exotic za’atar adds much to a dish of gnocchetti sardi, Sardinia’s classic pasta. Tight little ridged shells are tossed with chopped eggplant, tomato sauce, and mozzarella. Alone, it’s a light dinner; matched with Elmwood’s grilled pork steak, it’s a perfect sharing pairing. Surprisingly, most local Italian joints don’t feature this excellent pasta; here, it’s done exceedingly well. Another pasta, mafalda, is a cross between lasagna noodles and fettucine. The frilled ribbons are glossed with a “Bolognese” sauce of grilled vegetables that are tangy, fresh, and earthy—but if they’re going to call it Bolognese, they should add some meat.
The Elmwood Burger is a tower o’ beef, gussied up with fiery Korean red pepper gochujang sauce, bacon, American cheese, and pickles. The star, though, is clearly the coal-grilled black bass. The entire fish is perfectly cooked and split open. The flaky white flesh is salty with the taste of the ocean.
Do not pass on the desserts, which constantly change. Decadent: a puck of dulce de leche–type cake covered in chocolate. Restrained but tasty: a creamy rice pudding. Inventive: a coal-roasted apple with house-churned ice cream. (You’ve no doubt noticed the repetition of “coal” here. Good. Elmwood has a lump charcoal–burning grill and the only coal-fired oven in the state, both wise selections.)
Boutique winemakers populate a thoughtful list, which meanders into equally thoughtful zero-, low-, and full-proof cocktails. If beer’s your choice, think CBD: cans, bottles, draft.
I’m not joking about the necessity of reservations. Even on a weeknight, the place is packed. Complaints about the low lighting are a trifle exaggerated; more annoying are tables too small for more than two diners. Leaves that pull up make for more space, yet extending them means literally being an elbow’s length from other tables. If the menu’s set up to make dinner a collection of small plates, there needs to be someplace to put them all.
Maplewood’s set a high bar for eateries. In the short time it’s been open, Elmwood has met the challenge—and it’s going to make the choice of where to dine even tougher.
