Dining Out Review: Pasture

Over the years, I've noticed a distinct trend emerge when a new restaurant opens. Opinions from those who visit early run the gamut from melodramatic enthusiasm to strangely vicious contempt.

But no matter what the initial buzz, a defined consensus eventually shakes out. Everyone loves the originality of Restaurant A, but Restaurant B is a weak knock-off of some already established spot, for example.

Yet every so often, a new place will elicit such wildly disparate opinions I can't check it out fast enough to see what all the fuss is about.

Such is the case with Pasture, the new Southern eatery from chef Jason Alley (Comfort), owner Ry Marchant (Six Burner) and general manager Michele Jones.

Located in a former home of high-end women's clothier Montaldo's on a block of Grace Street largely overlooked in recent years, Pasture serves updated takes on the creatively familiar fare Alley is known for but does so in a setting so sparse and minimal you won't feel like you're anywhere near Richmond.

Pasture also shuns the typical appetizer-entrée-dessert sequence to which most local restaurants adhere in favor of the burgeoning small plates-only trend slowly chipping away at our collective notion of dining out.

It's this juxtaposition of familiar and foreign that I believe causes the "you're either gonna love it or hate it" attitude toward Pasture, a conflict I struggle with myself.

I love the menu — comfort food with a slight low-country tinge seen in dishes such as a delicate, sweet tea-smoked trout accented with sesame seeds served atop tart, julienned apples ($11). But the décor lacks the warmth and exuberance I expect of a place serving such fare.

Surrounded by worn, black-and-white tile floors and reclaimed wood walls, the open space is devoid of art or knickknacks. Even liquor bottles are hidden in drawers behind the bar. All this minimalism adds up to a lot of cacophony when the place gets bumping.

I realize nitpicking décor seems baseless, but in my book, décor contributes to ambiance, which is an important part of the dining experience. Although Pasture definitely has a distinct aesthetic, it just isn't my cup of tea.

Yet when I taste the effect smoked ginger syrup has on bourbon and ginger ale in Pasture's Surry cocktail ($8) or how the bite of preserved lemon provides an invigorating contrast to lusciously buttery Brussels sprouts and winter squash ($6), I suddenly forget what the place looks like.

Organized into snack, hot and cold categories, Pasture's small plates, although all in the Southern realm, are varied enough to appeal to a range of palates and diets.

Chunky pimento cheese balances a sharp bite with a hint of heat ($4). Hearty bacon and crisp cabbage are tucked into big, briny Olde Salt clams ($12) afloat in a tangy lemon-butter broth. Creamy navy beans jazzed up by basil quell the rustic gaminess of lamb sausage ($12).

Considering how many options there are, I'm surprised I've only had a couple of disappointments.

Steak tartare with jalapeno and chili ketchup ($12) looked good on paper but arrived with no discernable flavors, minus the richness of a quail egg's golden yoke. Carolina Gold rice topped with mushroom gravy was dense and savory, but nothing about it justified the $7 price tag. The aforementioned sweet tea-smoked trout was advertised cold but arrived hot.

Although disappointing, none of these was a deal breaker for me, especially when taking Pasture's cheeseburger ($11, with fries) into account.

The simplicity of a burger done right is one of life's greatest pleasures, and this is not lost on Pasture's kitchen. The thick patty, rosy pink on the inside and deliciously charred on the outside, sits atop a toasted sesame seed bun with diced white onion, lettuce and a ketchup-mayo mix bringing it close to perfection.

I missed trying Pasture's homemade candy bar ($7) with hazelnut crunch and Nutella, but I know Alley's menu will lure me back. I just need to keep my eyes on the table.