I heart Michael Symon.
Here's a cook-dude who could open restaurants in LA, NY, or Chicago, but he keeps it real and opens them in Cleveland and Detroit. That brings a huge smile to my face.
Our families are in Cleveland.
Some of best of friends are in Detroit.
We can eat Michael Symon's food whenever we want.
Located in the historic Book Cadillac Hotel is Detroit's gorgeous Roast. But I'm conflicted.
I didn't like Roast as much as I like Lola, Symon's flagship restaurant.
The deal is this: the food was good, the service was good, the atmosphere is good. But it all just felt good. I wanted to have a fuckyesawesome!-spaz-freakout, but it never happened. Did I drink too much wine? Did order too much food? I feel like it's my fault that I missed something I shouldn't have.
What I enjoyed most was the company of our friends Sarah, John, and E (who took this magnificent pics for my blog! Thanks, E!)
Let me be clear: in the moment of dining at Roast, I was in food heaven. The beef tartar was to die for. The rib eye with shallot confit was amazing. The roasted chicken was mouth-watering. The short rib smelled divine.
But I was disappointed that our server didn't describe each meat on our charcuterie board. The wild boar was incredibly salty. The roasted bone marrow wasn't all that special. The brownie with lime was disgusting.
Can you see why I'm torn? I thought after a few weeks, I would feel happier about our visit. That I would have made my peace with the pro's and con's to the point it would be all pro. But I still feel a little ripped up and just not right about it.
Would I go back? For sure. Maybe I will drink less wine. Maybe I will only order one starter. Maybe I will ask our server to talk about the food more.
The definite is I want to go there again with our D-town dinner companions. They rule during every dining experience we have with them, even if the meal isn't all that.
And I will always heart Michael Symon, even if I'm not sold on Roast.
(For all the fab photos taken by E., check out my Facebook album.)