| Flying Colors
Aside from the nice atmosphere and good food, the
Hill Cafe passed two sly tests.
Randall Stamper
Style Weekly
Wednesday May 22, 2002
The Hill Cafe was the first restaurant I visited
in Richmond. I went there for a nightcap one evening
with my girlfriend. We’d been apart for a while.
I was considering moving here and was in town for
a week of reconnaissance. We had a lot of heavy conversations
that week. One of the heaviest was held in The Hill
that night. It went well and I’m with her and
it’s great. So, to be honest, the folks at The
Hill could have served me pickup-butter-and-carpal-tunnel-jelly
sandwiches last week and I still would have sung their
praises. I probably should have recused myself from
writing this review. But I don’t think my partiality
changes the fact that The Hill Café is a class
joint with good food in a sexy neighborhood.
Recently reopened by the folks who brought you Europa
and The Hard Shell, The Hill is a graceful blend of
panache, prurience and maybe a dash of pridefulness.
So be it. It works. It’s a good place for those
who don’t want to go where everybody knows your
name — unless you live in Church Hill that is.
But don’t mistake shyness for snobbery. It’s
a very comfortable spot.
There are two little tests I like to run from time
to time: the Rusty Nail Equation and the Calamari
Proof. Sometimes I run them individually, sometimes
in conjunction when the opportunity arises. For me,
they are a good way to assess where a restaurant’s
staff falls along the continuum from “paying
for rent and drugs” to “taking pride in
what I do.” I ran both when my sweetie and I
revisited The Hill last week.
Not a lot of bartenders know what a Rusty Nail is.
Fewer still have tried one and considered the proper
balance that must be struck for this aperitif to work.
When it does, it’s heavenly. When it doesn’t,
it’s cough syrup. The gentleman behind the bar
at The Hill (sorry, I couldn’t get your name)
must be a rusty nailer too. So well done, I ordered
a second.
Then there’s calamari. It shows up on a lot
of menus. And a lot of it is absolute trash. Too tough,
too breaded, too fried, too chilled, too bland, too…
sometimes I wonder if it’s really squid that
I am being served. Without a lab you can’t be
sure because the line between appetizer and retread
is so slight. The heaping plate I waded through at
The Hill ($5.95) was a scholarly squid dissertation.
Lightly breaded and flash-fried so the crust flaked
off a bit when I dragged it through the marinara.
Oh goodness. It’s 10 p.m. right now, but I’d
still eat an aquarium full.
In addition to passing these two tests with flying
colors, The Hill Cafe served me a juicy little filet
in a mushroom bordelaise for $19.95. It came with
white cheddar mashed potatoes. They nearly stole the
show. We also tried the special that evening: a grilled
salmon filet stuffed with Gorgonzola and pine nuts
served over red pepper orzo with asparagus ($18.95).
A good piece of fish but it’s hard to be subtle
with Gorgonzola. We both really liked the seared rare
tuna appetizer ($7.95). Crusted in sesame seeds, served
with wasabi, seared around the edges, and cool and
rare in the center. It’s a little carnival of
taste, texture and temperature.
The Hill Cafe does a good job of serving “comfort
foods in a cozy setting” as they aspire to do.
I’m glad that it was my first experience with
Richmond’s restaurants. Nestled up there on
Church Hill, candles flickering and conversations
purring, it’s a reminder that good things happen
when the right people get together, do what they do
and do it well.
The Hill Café ($$)
2800 East Broad Street
648-0360
Hours: Monday – Saturday 11:30
a.m. to 2 a.m.
Sunday 10:30 a.m. to 2 a.m.
(kitchen closes at midnight) |
