The emphasis is on intimacy with a controlled comfort. Garden-level and low-lit, the decor is classy and sleek. The ambiance makes you want to whisper, and if you’re dining solo, you’ll feel a sense of belonging at the bar.
Four courses start with “snacks”, a colorful plate of sunkissed Sweet Prince tomato, lively Lunch-Box pepper, and crunchy cucumbers, all to be dragged through a divine dipping sauce of cucumber leaf and dill. The sprinkle of black lime powder wakes everything up with a bit of a bite.
Hush puppies are hot circles of corn, made to be dunked in crème fraiche with perky pepper jelly.
They may be produce-forward, but their Fluke is my second favorite, with tomatillo tartness and a sharp ginger finish. The sweet potato chips are too thin to hold much fluke, but they contribute the crunchy contrast.
Eat the fluke first - the Yellowfin Tuna is rather rich. Topped with tomato and fried garlic, the smoke settles deep.
Fun fact: almost all of their fish is sourced from a guy named Jason Miller who fishes in Montauk, the “crazy fish guy” notorious for bringing the morning’s catch directly through the doors.
There’s a lot of space between the first course and the second, but it’s easy to see why when they bring out this spectacular spread.
The highlight is a Flatbread with Barber wheat, to be smothered in a rye cultured butter that leaves you with the fragrance of a deep, lingering grain.
The Succotash is the one I can’t stop eating. It’s a small dish of fried eggplant that melts away with a single, candied crunch. It’s like pork belly without the fat. Avocado squash and peppers make up the soft stuff, and corn adds a little sweetness too.
The Ricotta with tomato, is a hearty mouthful, though TBH, I have had quite enough tomato at this point.
A wire basket in a bed of herbs houses an assortment of Beans; string bean, broad bean, beans I can’t remember but can’t forget. The herbal smoke breezes back up the nose, and it somehow enhances all your senses.
Lightly cooked grapes sever from the stem, serving as a palate cleanser as sour offsets sweet.
My wine is a glass of 2021 Beaujolais, a tiny hint of sweet and fruit, a nice dry finish. It’s the one glass I’m nursing all night as I marvel at the lightweight I’ve become.
But my Beaujolais has its moment as I sip it with my steak. Slices of grass-fed Beef bleed beside a potato pancake, but the real standouts are the dill cream underneath, the earthy eggplant purée, and the meaty shiitake and chanterelle. The beef is good, but here it’s barely a blip compared to the veggies and fruit.
The Salad has sweet balls of vine-ripe melon and more tomato, topped with arugula and pine nuts and a Barber wheat cracker that’s lighter than air.
My photo makes the Wow Corn look like bloody teeth, but the combination of raw corn with blueberry butter glaze is unforgettable. They’re selectively bred in Wisconsin for its exceptional sweetness and captivating crunch.
I’m visibly struggling through the Ricotta Cheesecake, and it’s devastating to leave some behind. I’ve never had a cheesecake so creamy, and the summery plum and sorghum cracker only add to its depth.
The bartender takes pity on me and introduces me to an Amaro, a licorice-finish spirit that acts as digestive reset.
Still, I need the assorted fruit bowl to go, and the peaches, blueberries, and husk cherries make a lovely bit of breakfast.
What a beautiful start to an unforgettable trip. Blue Hill is a blend of all the polish and precision I love about fine dining with none of the stuffy snobbery. Service is swift and just the right amount of attentive where you feel cared for to but not so smothered.
I come from California where the entire cuisine is farm-fresh, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of places that highlight produce, and Blue Hill managed to impress and enchant.
Thanks Blue Hill. 5 stars for the succotash.
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