Restaurant Week Adventures: The Bearded Frog & Salt Café | News | Seven Days | Vermont's Independent Voice

Seven Days needs your financial support!

Restaurant Week Adventures: The Bearded Frog & Salt Café 

Published May 4, 2011 at 5:42 p.m.

Salt_scallop A few nights later at Montpelier's Salt Café, my friend and I were so hungry, and so stressed from our days and our drives, that we committed a culinary faux pas: We ordered the same dishes for two courses. One server, Peter Colman, rightly tut-tutted us, but both of us had our hearts set on a seared scallop in blood-orange Hollandaise sauce, and the pork liver and sausage ravioli in a nutmeg-cream sauce that had recently earned a nod in New York magazine as one of the "101 of America's Most Delicious Noodle Dishes." 

But first, co-owner Suzanne Podhaizer delivered an amuse bouche — a petite cube of local goat cheese atop a drizzle of sweet and smoky maple gastrique, a few microgreens floating on top. The tiny morsel slid down our throats with a sugary tang; I ran my finger across the plate. Next up was the scallop, one side deeply seared to the color of caramel and a piece of juicy blood orange glistening on top. The scallop itself was succulent, and the mostly cream sauce had faint hints of acid. An interlude of crisp spring greens followed — tossed lightly with toasted walnuts, feta and minced ramps that had been gathered by Colman that morning — and added a woodsy piquancy.

At long last, the ravioli. We had felt teased by the smaller plates so far, wanting more of whatever it was we finished. Now we knew why; this dish packed an epic punch. Tucking into the soft pillows, bits of tender sausage would occasionally pop out. We'd drag them around the plate, scooping up the rich, nutmeg-speckled sauce with its hints of sherry. It filled us completely and absolutely. Yet we'd heard the desserts here are transportive, and it wasn't a myth. My dense, flourless chocolate cake came smothered in a melted marshmallow that looked like pale lava spilling across the top. It oozed and stretched as I ever so slowly finished off the deep, dark cake. My friend's feather-light maple pudding came with a chip of smoky, salty bacon brittle. Both left us believing in the magic of pastry and vowing to return.

Got something to say? Send a letter to the editor and we'll publish your feedback in print!

More By This Author

About The Author

Corin Hirsch

Corin Hirsch

Corin Hirsch was a Seven Days food writer from 2011 through 2016. She is the author of Forgotten Drinks of Colonial New England, published by History Press in 2014.


Comments are closed.

Since 2014, Seven Days has allowed readers to comment on all stories posted on our website. While we’ve appreciated the suggestions and insights, the time has come to shut them down — at least temporarily.

While we champion free speech, facts are a matter of life and death during the coronavirus pandemic, and right now Seven Days is prioritizing the production of responsible journalism over moderating online debates between readers.

To criticize, correct or praise our reporting, please send us a letter to the editor. Or send us a tip. We’ll check it out and report the results.

Online comments may return when we have better tech tools for managing them. Thanks for reading.

Keep up with us Seven Days a week!

Sign up for our fun and informative

All content © 2022 Da Capo Publishing, Inc. 255 So. Champlain St. Ste. 5, Burlington, VT 05401

Advertising Policy  |  Privacy Policy  |  Contact Us  |  About Us  |  Help
Website powered by Foundation