Metro Pulse/Restaruant Rover/Tomato Head

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Tomato Head
Market Square, downtown
637-4067

by Les DuLunch

Time after time Tomato Head has never let me down, whether the occasion was an awkward date over hummous-dipped bread or a friendly debate over pizza and brown-bagged merlot. Sure, maybe every once in a blue moon the basil vinaigrette is a little heavy on the balsamic vinegar or perhaps the service is a tad on the lackadaisical side (but never unpleasantly so). And anyway, those are the variations that lend a human touch. Throughout my tenure at Metro Pulse, Tomato Head has always held the unchallenged position of "my favorite restaurant."

So you can imagine my horror early this summer when it was dealt a literal blow. In one of those bewildering cringe-able moments, Knoxville found a way to knock down its most successful downtown restaurant just at the moment when "Market Square" and "redevelopment" were words on everyone's lips.

But like a Timex, Tomato Head took the lickin' and kept right on tickin'. Since returning to their original Market Square home, the restaurant has not only changed, but improved—no small feat. Gone are the mismatched tables and chairs that lent thrift store chic. In their place is blonde wood Craftsman-like seating. The damaged side wall now features several tall, slender windows, which allow in natural light while overlooking the well landscaped breezeway that leads to the Miller's Building. The salads, and their array of homemade dressings, are still the freshest to be found anywhere in town. And the pizza selections remain every bit as well arranged as the rotating art collections that festoon the walls. (Always hot-to-trot, the pizzas are now even available in take-and-bake versions.) Sure, you could create your own from the ample choice of fresh toppings, but why? There's density and dramatic flavor—the #1 with its engaging blend of herbed and sundried tomatoes complemented by pungent pesto or the #3 with its dry lamb sausage, sweet black olives, tiny, briny capers, and more of the two-tomato mix. There's the garden goodness of the #5 with its Mediterranean amalgamation of artichoke hearts, mushrooms, red pepper, and onion atop a four-cheese blend.

And then there's the #12. This heavenly disk is everything wonderful about bagels and lox transformed into a pizza. A mellow smooth mixture of mozzarella, parmesan, and ricotta cheese form the garlic-tinged white sauce's base while tender smoked salmon slices swim beneath a swirl of vibrant pesto. It's as good to look at as it is to eat. Simply sublime.

I could also give the calzones and sandwiches their richly deserved due, but I'm running out of room. And there's still dessert to discuss. So let me quickly state that the Tomato Head and the Warm Goat are triumphs in the art of sandwich making, thanks to the firm foundation of soft, expertly baked breads. These golden domes, white or wheat, rival those of Istanbul's Hagia Sofia.

As for dessert, while other restaurants wallow in weighty confections of the double-chocolate-chip-espresso-explosion-brownie-fudge-cheesecake-melt variety, Tomato Head recognizes the wholesome goodness of well-made simplicity. Not to say that chocolate doesn't make its aphrodisiac presence known, but witness the tangy and thick buttery-crusted cherry rhubarb pie or the raisin-packed ginger carrot cake frosted with luscious cream cheese icing. I'm spent just thinking about them.

But don't get me wrong; food-wise, some things have changed since the fall of the wall. A revitalized interest in specials has given Tomato Head's long-standing menu a shot in the arm. Recent dishes like the gently complex carrot cashew curry, cooled by a thin-sauced, cucumber-chunk-filled raita, or the subtle but exotic African peanut soup, give free reign to delightfully inventive epicurean wanderlust. The specials board is even sometimes home to welcome Lula leftovers like the pineapple, tofu, and walnut burrito or the formidable tomato chipolte soup. Only the silly shenanigans of the Wha'chu Talkin' 'Bout Willis sandwich seem a bit over the top—by title alone. Chipmunk-cheeked Gary Coleman does not provide an appetizing mental picture. The Webster Head maybe? Whoops, wrong dwarfed child star.

Since laurels are for gardens and not resting, I must wonder, what's next? Will the wonderful (and wonderfully reasonable) wine flights from Lula make a return appearance here at Tomato Head? Could future menu augmentations feature a signature Tomato Head spin on the baked pasta dishes that are now so omnipresent? You showed 'em with pesto before anyone knew what it was, now show 'em with pasta.

Aside from the food, one of my favorite things about Tomato Head has always been the diversity of people the restaurant attracts—and that thankfully continues to hold true. Any given weekend evening might find couples with children, gay duos, and youthful bon vivants in those trendy black-framed glasses all chowing contentedly down on the veggie-friendly fare. Here in Knoxville where everything is too often in its proper place, it can be easy to forget that we're actually a vibrantly mixed community. Tomato Head provides a gentle and valuable reminder.

And with that, I must go. It's been a great two years, but like all things, my stint/reign of terror as your dutiful public servant must come to an end. Ms. Ally Carte, an accomplished writer who can brandish her wit and her fork with equal flair, will now be your fearless in-the-trenches foodie. I'll leave you with these simple words of wisdom: always have your cake and eat it too.