Photo credit: Anna Ward
Interval
Interval
Casual is generally not a word used to describe a restaurant with a tasting menu. But that is exactly how chef and owner Travis Cook wants customers to describe Interval, a coffee shop by day and a restaurant and bar by night. He'll tell you as much himself as he sits at the table next to you and explains that his goal by opening his own place was to make people feel comfortable, as well as be comfortable himself—he won't be wearing a chef's jacket, toque or anything of the sort.
Comfort isn't something that all diners feel when they're presented with the type of dinner dishes served here. The handwritten menus list dishes by their main ingredient, followed by a few supporting flavors, leaving the actual composition of the dish a surprise. There are a lot of foams, powders, proteins cooked sous-vide and things that would otherwise be unidentifiable if Cook didn't hand-deliver and explain each one himself. That personalized service makes it easier for diners to trust the chef—an important component of a meal that's not inexpensive and somewhat mysterious.
Diners can choose to do either a tasting menu for two paired with cocktails ($160) or order dishes à la carte. If choosing the latter option, I'd recommend about four plates per person for a full meal or more if you're famished.
Of all the dishes I tried, asparagus ($10) was the winner. Tender stalks were dressed in a light vinaigrette and arranged pick-up-sticks fashion with pickled ramp shoots. A thick, bright green purée on the plate was earthy like the ground the vegetables sprang from, and popped sorghum kernels added campfire-like smokiness.
In-season ramps made appearances in other dishes, too. Miniature madeleines ($10), the French cake-like cookie, were made with corn batter and dried ramp leaves. Served with a black walnut syrup for dipping, they had a savory and sweet harmony. Dried ramps were also sprinkled on top of a pork dish ($12) of medallions wrapped in bacon. The meat was delicious, but the cherry vinaigrette pooled in the bottom of the bowl was overpowering, and the mashed potato foam was underwhelming.
Sunchokes ($10), a tuber more like a potato than artichoke, came with a personal story from Cook about how it relates to his upbringing on the East Coast. This is his version of Old Bay fries, with creamy, deeply browned chunks of sunchoke covered in aioli foam and sprinkled with his version of Old Bay. I used my spoon to get every drop of that aioli.
Trout ($12) is Cook's well-done take on the trendy poké bowl, with chopped raw fish and a combination of tart yuzu and chile peppers that’s popular in Japan, covered with a thin, chicharron-like cracker dried from rice paste. Crack the delicate rice cracker into pieces and mix it into the trout.
One dish, a duck egg ($10), was cooked sous-vide so that the yolk was perfectly jammy but wasn't much more than a bland microgreen with the egg as its only dressing. The only dessert item, lemon poppyseed muffins ($10) covered in buttermilk glaze, was not bad, but not worth the money considering there was nothing unusual or surprising about it.
Cocktails are also a personalized experience here. There is a cocktail menu ($10) full of options (try the pamplemousse with gin, pine and elderflower), but the bartender will also come to your table to determine your likes and dislikes before recommending a drink or making something to surprise you. When I told him I liked gin and whiskey sours, he returned with a lovely citrus concoction made with gin and shaken with egg white.
While the laid-back, personal attention is outstanding in most regards, the loosey-goosey attitude isn't great when it comes to the end of your meal. You won't get a bill here—and no one even told me that since you don't really have a dedicated server. You pay at the bar, which is fine while in café mode during the day, but less fine when you're spending $140, and you don't get to see an itemized bill. It can make for some awkward moments, and the traditional restaurant etiquette of receiving a bill at the table should not be upended.
If you want to experience the minimalist retro décor and welcoming bright space without a large investment, stop by during café hours for a Pilcrow coffee and a sausage biscuit or parfait made with oatmilk panna cotta or hang out at the bar during dinner hours. It's like baby steps, building up to a big tasting dinner that has more hits than misses. No matter when you go or how you'd like to enjoy their offerings, you'll always feel welcome at Interval.
