Harvest Moon - February 2011

Harvest Moon

February 2011

The farm to table movement is rooted in the manic desire to protect things that are deceased, namely vegetables, pigs, fowl and the like. But Cassie Parsons is also rather fond of the living. As a farmer, it’s her job to be - nurturing pigs, fungi and the odd tuber at Grateful Growers farm in Lincoln County, North Carolina. And now, as a restaurateur in uptown Charlotte, she cares for humans too, by keeping them alive. At Harvest Moon, Parsons only uses, wherever possible, ingredients from within 100 miles of the restaurant. It’s a real life study in sustainability. And one that is noble as hell. The restaurant evolved from a small cart that Ms. Parsons set up at Trade and Tryon to help subsidize her farm. Craig Spitzer, General Manager of the Dunhill had noticed quite a line forming outside the humble Harvest Moon cart.  And so, needing a tenant for the recently vacated Monticello’s, he approached Ms. Parsons to see if there was a desire to take over the space.

On paper, the marriage looks like a horrific mismatch. Like if your dad married some hippie chick from Vermont. At 80 plus years old, the Dunhill is a codger of a hotel. A bona fide landmark, it was built in the gilded Gatsby era, and seems to yearn for a more conservative and formal partner. And Harvest Moon will have a challenge attracting non-hotel guests this location. Located at sixth and Tryon, there are the usual uptown parking garages to navigate (valet?), and the façade needs work if it’s to attract any attention from the street.

There is a small lobby bar that also serves the restaurant, but it’s not really a place you would hang out for a bunch of drinks before dinner, but a martini or a glass of wine, sure. Cocktails are available, but something from the wine list would more suit the fare at Harvest Moon, and there are many humbly priced selections (mostly domestic) by the glass and bottle, and servers are adept at pairing wine with food.

Harvest moon is open for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Breakfast is a necessity to serve Dunhill guests, but it is also a way to take advantage of 5 AM deliveries of dairy and vegetables at their absolute zenith of flavor, as well as the bacon and sausage which are made from Grateful hogs. Splendid, but also pricey and rather inaccessible for non-guests. Pork is a predictable through line at Harvest, and is featured in both salads and sandwiches at lunch, as in the tempting “Bahn Moon” sandwich, an equitable take on the Vietnamese street food and a crispy pressed prosciutto and house made ricotta sandwich with picked turnips. There are also plenty of other choices including several vegan, vegetarian and gluten free options.

The space is simple and understated with a few orb-like chandeliers, gleaming original terrazzo floors and cream-colored walls covered with a few vivid prints of produce and livestock. There is a large communal bank of tables in the middle and a large front table by the window. Dinner seats 40 and is manageable with a just few fresh faced servers that seem to be chugging the Harvest Moon cool aid. Attentive and passionate about the mission, they describe the menu with aplomb and are eager to answer questions. There are sharing plates with artisan cheeses, salumi and excellent sausages, all made in house. A dozen or so small plate starters ($5-$11) vary from salads to noodles to brisket, including a roasted sweet potato and butternut squash soup. Parsons treats this silky soup simply, allowing the considerable flavors of the vegetables to shine. Local farms are noted in the Entrée sections ($16-$23) with Ashley Farm rabbit featured in the cacciatore, and Beaucom’s Best beef in the shepard’s pie.  Predictably there are plenty of pork options, including the signature Tomahawk bone-in pork chop, brined in stout and served with quinoa.

Still, the slow food movement is hardly new, and beyond the feel-good marketing, I found myself wanting the promise of all this hoopla to be fully realized. That is, I want to taste it. And most of the time, Harvest Moon delivers. At first, in subtle ways. A tangle of local greens, lightly dressed with a citrus vinaigrette and housemade goat cheese oozes a peppery wholesomeness. Then, more overt. The vegetal punch from a cooked tuber is noticeable and front and center on my palate. I search for ways to describe it to myself. Terroir, maybe? Soon, I am bombarded by these stimuli as I dig into a special one evening. Chewy and zippy andouille sausage, cheddar grits, plump shrimp and mahi-mahi combine in a stunning display of kitchen talent. Parson nuzzles the gently seared fish atop a mixture of shrimp and cheddar grits, and a low country gravy with okra and root vegetables. As I slice the fish, it sinks in the bowl and continues to cook, evolving the dish ever so slightly, so that my first bite is raw and clean, and the last bite is just cooked through and has absorbed the flavors of the grits and gravy. A huge success and a dish that has me more engaged with each bite. And it’s the kind of dish that allows Parsons to stretch out a little, with superb results, dashing any concerns that she is merely a humble hog farmer. Take notice, Parsons has chops. Desserts are made in house and there are several to choose from each evening, along with hot and delicious French press coffee. “None fresher,” I am assured.

The good news for omnivores is that Charlotte is fortunate to have some remarkable restaurants that fly the “local” flag. Roosters, Good Food on Mountford and Customshop all proudly and conspicuously use locally produced products, and acclaimed Ratcliff on the Green did so before them. Let’s hope this continues.  Like every restaurant, Harvest Moon exists because living things are put to death in the service of feeding humans. Some people, like Cassie Parsons, take the entire process very seriously. We eat, therefore we are, and given the choice, I’d much rather eat animals and vegetables that have lived happy lives and died noble deaths - well cared for and respected. Hell, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t anyone?