Metro Pulse/Restaruant Rover/Little Star

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Little Star
5003 Kingston Pike
558-0210

by Connie Seuer

Best described as a sophisticated, French-inspired restaurant, Little Star successfully eschews fussiness while generating an atmosphere of low-key joie de vivre. From its interior design—low-hanging, minimalist light fixtures, dried antique rose bouquets, linen table settings—to the staff of urban chic, black-clad servers, Little Star has considered every detail of its presentation. And this same attention to quality and nuance, thankfully, has been focused on every course (and then some).

From a prix fixe menu ($38), Heinrich and I selected three courses each. Plain, warm bread accompanied by a miniature pitcher of herbed olive oil took the edge off of our hunger and prepared our palates for the chef's tastings soon to come.

At other restaurants, chef's tastings, those small portions of completely tuned dishes, are offered only at planned tasting events or to personal friends of the chef. Little Star intersperses such delightful items (creations you won't find on the menu) with the courses that you've already ordered. Heinrich received a "tuna sandwich" tasting, more specifically, a petit mouthful of tuna, tomato, watercress and bread accented by a couple of homemade, air-thin potato chips. The watercress made the rather common lunchable turn interesting, and the chips—oh my. The chip literally melted in my mouth, tracing the plain goodness of potato, oil, and heat all the way to my gustatory cortex.

Asparagus soup was our other tasting, lasting for a single, ephemeral moment. Four tender heads of asparagus rested in a mere dollop of asparagus soup, topped by a single, plump shrimp and a coif of watercress. The soup itself was smoky and deep in flavor—a solid and unforgettable companion to the asparagus, shrimp, and watercress. Of the two tastings, this was definitely our favorite and one we would order quickly if it were ever to join the menu.

Another round of bread to cleanse our palate, and then our first course. Heinrich had selected the scallops. So easy to do right, so frequently done wrong, the seafood was cooked to perfection. And while the rest of the dish was intriguing—a sweet potato and Vidalia onion sauté drizzled with a chipotle-barbecue demi-glace—it was very cinnamony. It reminded me of the holidays more than early spring, but this is the only count I could have against it. It was complete, complex, and delicious.

I could not resist ordering the first course lobster ($6 supplement to the fixed price), mainly because of its promised "truffled soup." From my right, a server presented a shallow soup bowl of butter-poached lobster tail, miniature-diced potatoes, and a m�che salad. From my left, Chef John Thomas McKee poured the truffled soup into the bowl, completing the dish in front of my very eyes. Yes, it was rich, undeniably so—richly perfect and sublime. As uncouth as it might have seemed, I found myself dredging bread through the remaining creamy liquid to pleasure in each droplet. Again, Heinrich favored my dish to his, but it was a comparison of delectable versus super delectable. The scales are, shall we say, all in Little Star's favor.

I'd decadently ordered one of the extra courses from the front of the menu, seared foie gras ($15.00) made more divine with a drizzling of tomato jam and balsamic syrup. The melt-away experience was accompanied by a cornmeal "soufflé"—a down-home pairing that worked surprisingly well with the uptown star of the show. And while I savored my extra course, Little Star kept Heinrich from going hungry. To him they brought a courtesy tasting of sweet potato soup. Spicy and sweet, thick and warming, the soup culled thoughts of holiday gatherings or summer gardens.

Heinrich's second course, an herb marinated flank steak served atop a garlic-herb "flan" was unexpectedly, yet charmingly, sweet. I didn't favor the herby flan, but flan has never been one of my faves. Heinrich, however, was utterly wooed by its porcelain-smooth texture and the rewarding contrast it created with the steak and its surrounding wild mushroom consommé. I received the panko-breaded halibut, wondrously flaky, gracing garlic potatoes and dressed with a piquant roasted pepper-marjoram sauce.

For those who like some guidance when choosing wine, each dish carries a recommended wine pairing. Heinrich, however, elected to make his own selection, ordering a glass of the Terra D'Oro Sangiovese ($7). The vino, despite an airy bouquet, was spicy and robust and accented the flank steak entrée.

At this point, between main courses and dessert, I must mention that every dish served to us made savvy use of watercress. Either as a garnish, a flavorful aside, or an integral part of the preparation. I'm not sure where Little Star is finding such beautiful sprigs of the unsung little green, but this Little Star signature is something I began to look forward to with each new plate.

The evening came to a close with our respective desserts—my pear strudel with chestnut semifreddo and chestnut brittle, a fruit and nut based reward; Heinrich's candied apricot cheesecake with almond meringue, a sweet that drove Heinrich to scrape his plate.

In the "tradition" of Little Star's understated manner, I feel confident in providing one simple word of advice—go.