We’d heard good things about Valuna, which opened this spring, and for months had been meaning to go. But when an especially credible source chimed in — Brett, a waiter at a favorite restaurant — we could delay no longer. Fully equipped with a pair of foodie friends, we finally arrived.
The place is in a renovated space formerly occupied by an ice cream parlor. It’s where Heffie’s used to be. This is to be expected, since dining well has become a hobby in this state, with enthusiastic blue collar as well as silk collar enthusiasts. My mechanic, Neil, is one of my most knowledgeable recommenders. My mailman is another. Offhand, I can think of two garages-turned-restaurants (Neil's influence?), and when this trend extends to churches, we will be a culinary Mecca indeed.
Valuna calls itself “An American Taverna.” The primary décor of small family photos, placed on numerous shelves, signals that the restaurant is unpretentious. That established, expectations ratchet up a bit to bistro level, with paper over cloth on the tables.
The word was out that this place has a good wine list. Indeed, in addition to a few dozen by the bottle, there are 15 by the glass. The quality of the cheaper offerings is always a useful indicator. We were impressed with the multiple flavors in the South African Excelsior Cabernet Sauvignon, and the slightly fruity dryness of the French PicPoul de Pinet, good finds at, respectively, $6 and $6.50.
Perusing the appetizers is, well, appetizing. There is an elaborate antipasto for two, priced to market, depending on the seasonal cheeses, and a calamari for two ($12), tossed with fried capers and a parsley-citrus aioli. We tried the signature grilled pizza Valuna ($11), which was thin-crusted and plentifully topped with caramelized onions, kalamata olives, wild mushrooms, and Asiago cheese, plus fresh oregano and a drizzle of roasted garlic oil. The Anjou pear pizza ($14) was tempting, with its apple cider reduction finish, but the bacon lardoons dissuaded one of us.
The Caesar ($8) and frisée ($9) salads pleased two of our party, the latter item a small but remarkably elaborate creation, tossed in a roasted pecan vinaigrette, with balls of bacon-flecked mascarpone cheese. It was quite delicious.
Needless to say, there were high expectations for our main dishes, and we weren’t disappointed. Johnnie’s roasted half-chicken ($17), being free-range, was quite flavorful, brightened by orange and Madeira in the pan juices. It was served with a potato, fennel, and chèvre gratin, plus green beans and carrots. Mary Ellen’s “bistro fillet” ($24) was exquisite. I don’t normally like filet mignon, but this eight-ounce slice of pink perfection was marinated to bolster its flavor and served with sautéed chard and a marvelous Napoleon of eggplant, tomatoes, and onions with truffled goat cheese.
The grilled salmon ($18) was up to everyone’s standards, being fresh and delicately cooked, enhanced by a persimmon and pink peppercorn sauce. The cream cheese and herbs in its accompanying whipped turnip could not overcome Harold’s aversion to the vegetable, although the green beans were pronounced nicely snappy.
Since everyone else ordered classy dishes, I felt free to get a simpler item someone had recommended — the Valuna burger ($11), a big 10-ounce ball of sirloin heaped with lots of prosciutto and caramelized onions that were bound together with melted smoked Gouda and drizzled with a roasted garlic aioli. It was served medium, not medium rare as I had ordered, but was nevertheless delicious. The thin French fries weren’t bad, either.
