Arlo

She said:

With Salt Lake City quickly becoming a local destination for fine cuisine, Brian and I decided to give Arlo a try. It was a great decision.

We were immediately greeted by a friendly host who quickly brought us to a table for two.

There were two things that I noticed right away: our table was larger than most tables for couples (bonus points!), and our utensils were propped up on a narrow, gray stoneware block. It was the first time I’d ever seen this, and it made me wonder if this might be a custom in other cultures.

Following what seems to be a trend, the restaurant was sleek, modern, chic, and minimalist. It was also in keeping with the gray theme, with a small, neutral color palette. Our tables were painted a medium gray, the walls a soft dove gray, the oversized drum lampshade fixtures above our heads featured a grizzle-gray fabric, the soffits were made of gray, pressed felt. To break up the neutral tones of all the gray were black table chairs, light-almond wood floor planks, and a blonde-colored drop-down wooden ceiling and partitions at the bar. The interesting thing is that the bar is positioned right in front of the open kitchen. Patrons who choose to sit there can perch on light-colored wood stools with black metal frames. More importantly, though, they get to watch the chefs up close and personal.

From my vantage point, I could see through the dining room to the kitchen, with its shiny stainless steel appliances and a glossy navy-blue subway tile wall in the very back. The one thing that really caught my attention was the incongruous pop of color on one small wall. It was painted a robin’s-egg blue and was clad with gray shelves holding many wine glasses. It put a smile on my face.

The large front windows let in a lot of light, but I noticed that there were no blinds or curtains to provide privacy. Additionally, while all that gray lends an air of sophistication to the premises, it is rather austere without any wall art or live plants to break up the monotony.

When I voiced my observation aloud to Brian, his response was, “Why do they need art on the walls when it’s on their plates?”

He had a point. Every single dish that was brought to our table was absolutely beautifully presented.

The cracker and cheese small plate that we ordered came as a large, crispy seeded rye flatbread cracker with triple-cream brie and preserved apricot mustard. It was delicious! We discovered that the best way to eat it was to break off pieces of the cracker and scoop up the cheese with the broken-off shards.

After that, we were served a beet salad to share. Did I ever mention in previous reviews that I’m especially fond of beets? Well, I am—all thanks to the wonderful things my mother did with beets as I was growing up. Mom was an excellent home cook.

Anyway, the salad was served with wedges of gem lettuce, ginger and honey vinaigrette, cubed beets, preserved lime yogurt, grapefruit segments, and roughly chopped pistachios. It was very good.

Following that small plate came the rillettes. We’d never seen this dish on any menu before, so we thought, “Sure, why not? Let’s go for it!”

For the uninitiated—which we were—rillettes are a very rich preparation of shredded pork with fat mixed in and served with sauce, but I’ll let Brian explain our dish in greater detail because it was so rich that I couldn’t eat it except for a forkful.

To finish, I’d ordered the fish entrée. It consisted of striped bass, small clams in the shell, carrots, small, white navy beans in a carrot and coriander sauce, and pumpkin seeds. It was excellent and I think I told Brian that the chef was a genius.

Oh, and I’d be remiss if I left out that I ordered a Fentiman’s Cola. It had a strong licorice taste that might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoyed it. It was reminiscent of the Moxie that my Welsh grandmother used to drink. Makes sense, as both beverages come from the UK.

He said:

I didn’t know what to expect from Arlo, but just the name alone put me in an anticipatory mood. “Arlo.” It sounds vaguely Mediterranean to me, for some reason, even though it is probably more of an Anglo-Saxon name. So, I visited the restaurant with some curiosity. I discovered that our waiter had also been curious about the name. Unfortunately, his earlier inquiries had failed to uncover the roots of the brand. He suspected that the restaurant might have been named after a bygone pet.

We found Arlo—the restaurant, not the dog—on a quiet residential street in the shadow of downtown, just on the edge of Salt Lake’s Marmalade District. This neighborhood—and some of its streets—gets its name from the many fruit-bearing plants and trees imported and planted by its early residents. Settled in the early days of the city, the Marmalade neighborhood is one of the city’s oldest, and features many vintage buildings, perhaps showcasing in just a few blocks more architectural styles than you could find in the entire Avenues Historic District.

Looking for an early dinner, we were the first patrons to arrive at Arlo, shortly after its opening on a Wednesday evening. However, plenty of other customers appeared in a steady stream, soon filling most of the restaurant’s dozen dining tables.

Like Kathy, I was amused by our silverware. I’m not particular about rigid placement of silverware, nor of always picking the correct fork in the proper order, but I did notice that all our utensils appeared on the left side of the place settings. That’s because the two forks, a spoon, and a knife were all arranged with their handles on the table and their functional sides propped up atop a small block. That was unusual enough, and attractive enough, to catch our attention. I guess we approve.

The restaurant’s printed menu probably changes with some regularity. Ours were labeled “Just the very early days of Spring.” A single list of options appeared in order of size, apparently. Bread and butter appeared first, followed by small appetizer-type plates, then some larger plates including salads, and ending with four entrée plates, two of which were vegetarian, leaving one fish and one chicken option. Drinks were on a separate page, but only a handful lacked alcohol and those included only a single soft drink, the fancy imported cola that Kathy ordered. They didn’t have any diet offerings, so I stuck with tap water, which was insufficiently chilled.

The first food to arrive was the Cheese and Cracker. It was just a single cracker, though as big as a plate. The cheese was probably the first brie that I’ve had that wasn’t baked to a gooey decadence. This was still soft and spreadable, but not gooey. Slightly tangy, the cheese was also somewhat buttery and rich, certainly creamy. The apricot mustard, full of whole mustard seeds, was fruity, but not sweet.

Next came our Beet Salad, in the form of three lettuce spears atop a spread of preserved lime yogurt, and accompanied by beets, pistachios, citrus sections, and—according to the menu—“a bit of joy.” Gem lettuce is a cross between butter lettuce and romaine, making it look and taste like miniature romaine hearts, albeit perhaps a little milder, sweeter, and more buttery.

The restaurant was efficient. New dishes arrived just at the right times to keep our meal moving forward. The next dish to arrive was the Rillettes. We didn’t really know what we had ordered, as the description simply said, “a flavorful bit of food, made with care, cured and cooked pork, red wine and plum preserve, some toast.” What we received was incredibly beautiful and tasty. The thick slices of golden toast were light and fluffy despite the crunch their toasting provided. I thought it might be a brioche, made with beaten eggs to make them so fluffy, but the waiter revealed they were a type of focaccia. I enjoyed them so much that the waiter brought more.

Meanwhile, the Rillettes appeared in a bowl topped with a delightful (but sweet) plum preserve and a scoop of whole-grain mustard. We learned that rillettes are a preparation of meat, often duck or goose, but pork in our case. The seasoned meat is slow-cooked in fat in a way similar to a confit. Afterwards, it is then shredded or mashed, almost into a paste, and often mixed with more fat. This makes it spreadable, which paired well with the toasted focaccia.

As Kathy said, every dish was beautiful. The chefs carefully arranged every plate to look as good as they tasted. My entrée was no different. My chicken was artfully arranged alongside a bed of crushed, roasted potatoes and broccolini atop a spread of spring green pesto and and topped with “a refreshing mix of toppings and a nice sauce.” I began by popping a sprig of broccolini into my mouth, and wow. I enjoy broccolini, for sure, but I don’t expect it to be amazing. But this was. It had picked up the seasonings and flavors of the sauce and other ingredients, and it just popped. What a great start, but it only got better from there.

The ”mix of toppings” puzzled me. I was impressed and fascinated by the tiny pieces, all uniformly diced to about a quarter of an inch. But what were they? They were a solid white. I thought they might be apples, until I bit into one. They weren’t apples or pears. They weren’t radishes, turnips, parsnips. Definitely not potatoes. Not jicama or fennel. I wasn’t ready to rule out nectarines, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t that. Not sweet enough and not quite the right texture, either. I was running out of white fruits and vegetables to consider, desperately taking a mental stroll through the produce section at the grocery store. I shared some with Kathy and she was as puzzled as I was. I had really hoped to figure it out before I had to reveal my ignorance to the waiter, but I was stumped. The waiter checked with the kitchen and then revealed to us that it was celery root. I don’t think I had ever had celery root before, so no wonder I hadn’t figured it out.

My meal was absolutely fantastic. I had thought that the entrée selection was meager, but maybe that’s for the best. Had I had more options, I might not have chosen the chicken, and I would have missed a fabulous preparation. I am still dismayed by the paltry selection of non-alcoholic beverages, though. And even if you’re not going to offer a wide variety of drinks, it’s got to be a sin to omit a diet cola, isn’t it?

Conclusion:

For a meal both beautiful and delicious in a charming setting, head over to Arlo.