NVM Review

By Warren Rojas

The town of Chilhowie has lain dormant for so long, most of the surrounding billboards and travel literature direct visitors to the professional speedway a good 30 miles away on the other side of the Tennessee border.

But if Chicago transplants John Shields and Karen Urie have their way, all roads will eventually lead to the culinary temple they are erecting within the four walls locals—and a growing community of online admirers—know as Town House.

Co-owner Kyra Bishop and her husband opened the family-run restaurant in 2002, originally launching as an upscale chophouse. But Bishop says they desperately yearned to share their passion for progressive dining—“whenever we traveled, that is the type of food we would find,” she says of their globe-spanning jaunts—with patrons.

When the opportunity for change presented itself in late 2007, the Bishops went searching for like-minded chefs able to sate their hunger for gastronomic self-actualization.

Right around that time, chefs John Shields (savory) and Karen Urie (sweet) happened to be looking around for the career path less traveled (he’d been at Alinea since 2005; she’d spent the better half of the decade at Charlie Trotter’s)—a happy coincidence that’s already paying critical dividends for everyone involved.

As co-executive chefs, Shields and Urie excised lunch from the agenda and reshaped the Town House program into a multi-tiered, tasting menu-style format (a la carte options are provided as well). Meanwhile, sommelier Charlie Berg (lured from the Troutdale Dining Room in neighboring Bristol, Tenn.) has been tasked with building a beverage catalog versatile enough to stand up to whatever whimsical creation the kitchen might spit out (like the lavender-infused milk conjured up to complement a Urie specialty).

My guess is Berg stays plenty busy.

A teaser of gourmet “cookies” binds olive oil jam, shaved parmesan (strips of airy cheese blow salty whispers into the culinary conversation) and lemon confit. “I wish I could just have a plate of those,” one companion commented when tasked with plotting an actual meal.

One is almost tempted to leave undisturbed an intricate web of diced asparagus, razor clams, grapefruit, brown butter and wisps of pulled honey (taffy-like clover basically dissolves on contact). But the real crime is that the dish disappears so quickly (so many interesting flavors, so few bites).

Wood-infused caviar (smack of smoke and salt) is zapped by an undercurrent of green curry, only to be doused by the sweet forgiveness of pineapple foam (carries the dish).

Roast lamb needs little assistance (the mouthwatering protein cooked to fork-shreddable perfection), yet receives it in spades from an astonishing ramp marmalade (lavishes each bite with licorice-like sweetness) and toasted cereals.

A fanciful selection of faux “truffles” summons cryogenically altered teardrops of solidified buttermilk (dairy bit player hereby elevated to lead role status) rolled in pistachio, meringue-like peppermint flanked by pure cocoa powder pebbles and a double chocolate number that seemed to openly mock conventional cutlery (but dissolved sublimely).