Circa

Last week some friends and I dined at Circa, a posh, trendy spot smack dab on South Main downtown. We were celebrating that glorious, much anticipated, and far too rare occasion known to working people everywhere as—wait for it, wait for it—Payday! Now, we really wanted to do it up right, so, having heard good things about Circa, and after confirming that it offered a "Vegetarian Plate" to appease yours truly, we got together to blow a good chunk of said paycheck on some fancy food.

I was the last of my party to arrive and found my friends enjoying some bar snacks piled into a conical paper wrapper, much like Belgian French fries are traditionally served. One of my dinner-mates gave her seal of approval to a pear martini, which I mention because the drink is, of course, vegetarian.

While the options for a full-blown veggie entree at Circa are slim, there's a good variety of side dishes that can be paired with a salad for a fairly satisfying meal. If you're looking for sustenance, however, I'd skip the appetizer plate: the guacamole, one of the two veggie choices available for the plate, came in a Lilliputian-sized dab on a single tortilla chip, curled around itself. Were this the guacamole to beat all guacamoles, I'd say a little dab'll do ya', but alas, it was lackluster and slightly brown (as happens to avocados when exposed to air; certainly a restaurant as high class as Circa should know the tricks to keep guacamole looking green).

After a quick glance at the salad menu, I began to panic at not seeing the words "blue cheese" on every line. As I teetered on the edge of despair, I spotted the baby iceberg wedge with gorgonzola—which all of you playing at home will know as Italian blue cheese—and I was instantly brought back from the brink. The salad featured a quartered, mini-head of crunchy iceberg, dressed with the creamy cheese and garnished with nuts. On the whole, it was average: the textures were cleverly balanced—the crunchy nuts nicely complementing the crunchy lettuce—but as I got halfway through the dish I found myself eating bare lettuce, the dressing having been applied too thin.

The "Vegetarian Plate," the sole veggie dish, consisted in a choice of three of Circa's many side dishes—nearly all of them meatless—served on a single plate, entree-style (with the corresponding entree price: $26). I chose the fingerling potatoes, expertly roasted with garlic and rosemary and lightly dressed with pesto. These were some of the best potatoes I've had, and they overshadowed the other, less appealing options on the plate: mushroom risotto and sauteed spinach with garlic. The risotto was richly flavored, but it was much too dry. And the spinach was inadequately seasoned: I actually craned my neck around the table looking for a salt shaker (of which there was none).

If you've got money to burn, Circa is a fine place to dine. And I applaud Circa for making an effort to include meatless options on its menu. But better veggie meals can be had around Memphis, even when it's not Payday.

Circa is located at 119 S. Main.

Beauty Shop

When I came to Memphis last February for a job-interview, my future-colleagues took me to Beauty Shop, a hip, pretty place in the heart of Cooper-Young. Still housing the domed hairdryers of yore under which ‘Scilla Presley and other Memphis gals stuck their heads, Beauty Shop is the brainchild of Karen Blockman Carrier, who is also the mastermind behind Mollie Fontaine Lounge, Automatic Slim’s Tonga Club, and Dō Sushi and Noodles. Since I moved to Memphis, I’ve visited BS several times, and on each occasion it hasn’t failed to satisfy my veggie cravings.

Your best bet for a veggie meal at BS is an assortment of small-plates from the appetizer menu, coupled with one of the many salads. Now, I’m not usually a fan of assembling a meal from the appetizer menu—when I have to do this it usually means the restaurant has absolutely no veggie entrée on offer. But in Beauty Shop’s case, the appies are plentiful and interesting, and a dinner consisting solely in small plates doesn’t feel like settling. Back in June the Hubby and I ordered way too much food, gorging ourselves on a whole table’s worth of salads and appetizers. We started with the soup, a semi-chunky gazpacho, heavy on the garlic (in a good way) and served at just the right temperature—not frigid, but cool—then moved on to grilled baby artichokes, a glamorous cheese plate, potato gnocchi, and the fantastic BS guacamole, of which you won’t find a creamier specimen.

As I grasped to undo the clasp on my pants, out of the kitchen came the coup de gras: a grilled romaine salad covered in a creamy blue-cheese dressing (sans bacon, which comes standard). Now, I should tell you that I’m a sucker for blue cheese: when I die, they’ll have to pry the block of fromage bleu out of my cold, dead hands. Pair blue cheese with a grilled vegetable and you’ll see this lady packing it in like nobody’s business. For months afterward I was craving this dish—that salty, tangy, smoky goodness engendered by the marriage of the cheesy and the charred.

Last month, Hubby and I hit BS again. The new menu afforded some more season-sensitive options such as a tomato salad with basil and light vinaigrette, and grilled peaches with blue cheese (which, in retrospect, I can’t believe I passed up). Each of us had the soup—a perfectly seasoned squash bisque, served in a large bowl with a smear of pesto on the inside—and glasses of white wine. The grilled romaine salad did not disappoint, and the waitress was happy to bring us extra toasts for our cheese plate once we gobbled them all up.

Just last week I was back at BS, feasting on the grilled romaine with blue cheese (now my usual), paired with a twice-baked potato, one of the Beauty Shop’s many side dishes. Others include a mélange of peas (cutely named “peas and snaps”), sautéed baby bok choy, and creamed corn. I finished with grilled peaches over ice-cream (which, oddly enough, had a slightly blue cheese flavor, but perhaps I'm starting to read it in to everything; I've become the King Midas of blue cheese!).

I should note that the restaurant does feature a vegetarian pasta, which in the past has been ricotta-filled ravioli and potato gnocchi. I had the ravioli on my visit in February, and, while it was tasty, the more interesting veggie options can be found among the appetizers and salads. But that’s no disappointment.

Beauty Shop is located at 966 S. Cooper. Reservations recommended on Fridays and Saturdays; I've walked in unannounced on other days of the week.

The Very First Post

The first thing my friends exclaimed when they found out I was moving to Memphis was, "Awesome food!" Perhaps for them, but not for this vegetarian of over fifteen years. In this town, you can't swing a Honda Fit around a block without coming face-to-face with a giant, rooftop-mounted pig. Shangri-la for carnivores Memphis may be, but this herbivore was dreading the lack of veggie options.

After I moved to Memphis this August, I began to realize that there is vegetarian food here, but not at strictly vegetarian restaurants (of which this town has roughly one). Eating out while eating veggie in Memphis would require me to broaden my horizons and try restaurants that wouldn't normally be on my radar. This blog tells the story of my search for veggie Memphis in the bowels of meaty Memphis.