Tin Table’s menu implicitly encourages nibbling, composed as it is of shareable starters, a whole section of salads and vegetables called “Garden,” and entrées—“Sea” and “Range”—which are medium-sized enough (with $11ish to $15ish price tags) to enable sharing and pairing. With abandon we shared bites of the lightweight pesto-drizzled mozzarella and heirloom tomato roll-ups called Caprese Rolls and the aforementioned beet salad, in which the fris—e and feta cheese and beets together with frisky exclamations of currants and pine nuts added up to a robust and intentional combination. We relished those roasted baby carrots, so fresh, skin and stems on, all simple and stunning with goat cheese and warm grapes; along with a big plate of green beans, cooked to a crunch and poured over with a garlicky tamarind chutney sauce that started sweet and finished fiery; and a grainy field of farro, tossed and oiled with cashews and bits of cauliflower.
“I could eat this way every night,” my friend sighed, biting hugely into her bacon-cheddar burger, fashioned of free-range, hormone-free meat and served with that because-it’s-there mountain of truffle-salted frites.
In fact, eating this way every night was what inspired impresario Hallie Kuperman to open Tin Table in the first place. Kuperman owns the Century Ballroom, the dance school and performance space across the hall. When she and other Oddfellows tenants found their rents upped last year—pushing one, Velocity Dance, to relocate—Kuperman saw her opportunity to carve from Velocity’s beautiful hull her vision of a casual, stylish spot to feed drop-in dancers, late-night nibblers (the Table serves till 1am)—and herself. Kuperman, not a cook, crafted the restaurant she wanted to eat in.
But under chef Bo Maisano, who came from New Orleans by way of Madison Park Café and the late 1200 Bistro, Tin Table is considerably more than a neighborhood nosh stop. It’s a destination. Especially for main dishes such as a nice pink tuna burger with spinach and spicy mustard and shredded cabbage; a special of golden pan-seared halibut, freshened with fava beans and asparagus in a citrusy wash over a fragrant garni of herbs; and a canny plate of steak frites with arugula salad—great pairing—in which the hanger steak was buttery even before its bath in bacon–blue cheese butter. Yes, bacon–blue cheese butter.
At meal’s end, stuffed but not about to stop, we sat in reverential silence over a plate of light beignets, snowy with sugar—best in town—and an amazing finale crafted of fresh plums, lemony sabayon, and sprinklings of fresh herbs. A flawed lemon crème brûlée’s suggestions of lavender were a little avid, but we didn’t mind at all. “It tastes,” my friend managed, “grandmotherly.”
And that was just it. Because for all its smoldering gypsy glam, for all its arty soulfulness, the Tin Table manages to be one of the most down-to-earth enterprises in town. By the time you read this, Kuperman will just be launching a new cabaret space–cum–dance film venue out of the vacated studio next door, raising TT’s magical quotient off the charts. In light of this, the fact that its food, like its staff, stays so wholesome and careful and authentic surpasses magic and approaches the realm of the miraculous. Paris in the ’20s? In this lucky corner of Seattle…much better.
Published: September 2009
Nary a mention of champagne in the review other than the heading. Looked it up online and there’s six sparkling wines by the glass but no champagne and a small selection of bottles almost exclusively from large houses. Find a different heading for the article.