Nudel is right in the heart of Lenox, on picturesque Church Street, which had recently received a coating of snow, making for a lovely scene as we crunched up to the restaurant. We had tried this once before: Nudel takes no reservations, and back in October, as we had eyed the handful of tables and small counter, we were told the wait was over an hour. We were hungry and moved on, vowing to return.
Nudel's reputation is for foodie appeal, especially for creative use of local ingredients. I've mentioned before that I'm not much for holding strictly to this philosophy, but it can be done well, and on our return last week Nudel did so.
We showed up early, to ensure a seating this time, and chose to sit at the counter to see the kitchen floor show, which consisted of a chef, a sous, and a dishwasher with well-rehearsed, if occasionally improvised, choreography. The chef was happy to talk when he wasn't flat out at the stove, and the waitresses were happy to answer all kinds of questions as they dashed in and out of the kitchen to calls of "Order up!" that wouldn't have been out of place at the diner where I cut my teeth.
Staying close to their "local" ethos, there was barely a green to found: no salads on the menu and few vegetable options that didn't rely on roots and tubers: parsnips, potatoes, turnips, and dried peas. This was real cold-weather food, not hothouse stuff trucked in to make the year-round mixed greens or the middle-of-December guacamole. I started with turkey wing tacos, boneless wing meat crisped on the outside and topped with cabbage. The filling was outstanding, though the taco "shells" (simply small, cold flour tortillas) didn't stand up to the creativity of flavor or presentation in the dish. A crispy, homemade masa shell would have been delightful.
My wife (that's Mrs. Enobarbus) chose a delicious and tender boneless mutton -- the menu did not specify the cut, but it looked to be a sliced loin -- served on a risotto and topped with sauteed onions.
This is a place to visit not just to eat it, but to see it done. It's like going to a great food truck, and then eating inside. Nothing is out of sight, from the ingredients to the pile of well-used cast iron pans that the chef went through posthaste. In the end, you have to decide if you really want this enforced intimacy with your meal. Don't come here to pop the question. Do come armed with questions, because every one of the staff has the answers, has tasted the whole menu, and can pair off the surprisingly extensive wine list without blinking.
