SAUL
BOERUN HILL

If Brooklyn restaurants were people, most would be a thirtysomething creative professional in head-to-toe Uniqlo. Saul, meanwhile, is the fiftyish law professor in a cashmere sweater. From the day he opened in November 1999, chef Saul Bolton has turned out “sophisticated” food, to quote his website, becoming one of only four Brooklyn restaurants to earn a Michelin star. (The other three are Dressler, page 141, Peter Luger steak house, and the River Café). For its tenth birthday, Saul got a big wet kiss of a review from the New York Times, which praised the restaurant for its sustained energy and inventiveness.

Sophisticated. That’s a word that few other restaurants in this book would use to describe themselves. In fact, many would be vaguely embarrassed. But it’s the perfect word for Saul, Brooklyn’s version of a fancy restaurant. The dining room is warm, airy, and elegant. The clean-shaven maître d’ wears a coat and tie. The white-shirted servers discreetly swap in new flatware between courses. (Mercifully, they do not do that architectural thing with your napkin when you go to the restroom.) And a typical meal goes something like this: amuse-bouche of pureed mushroom with white truffle oil and chives, rich and earthy, wonderful right off the spoon, even better sopped up with a soft, crusty slice of bread; seafood chowder of Manila clams, mussels, shrimp, and crispy little nuggets of smoky bacon in a light broth flecked with fines herbes; oxtail ragù with poached egg, homemade tagliatelle, and Parmesan cheese, which comes in a high-sided conical bowl that collects the egg, cheese, and pasta in the bottom, making for some intensely flavored final bites; and perfectly cooked squab with wild arugula, farro verde, and tiny disks of brightly flavored pickled artichokes.

Bolton, a native Ohioan who owns the restaurant with his wife,

Lisa, came to New York in the early nineties because he wanted to work with David Bouley. He accomplished that goal, then went on to stints at Le Bernardin and Verbena (now closed) before landing his first executive-chef job at Grove, also defunct, in the West Village. He toiled there for three years before opening Saul in November 1999, just two months after the Grocery appeared eight blocks south.

“So many people said it wouldn’t work,” Bolton recalls. “All the neighborhood people were like, ‘What are you doing? You need at least three television screens in here.'”

Pan-Roasted Squab with Pickled Sunchokes, Eggplant Caviar, and Freekeh / SAUL

SERVES 4

For the pickled sunchokes

1½ cups seasoned rice wine vinegar

1 teaspoon coriander seeds

1 bay leaf

Pinch of crushed red pepper flakes

Pinch of coarse salt

1½ pound sunchokes (Jerusalem artichokes), peeled and diced

For the eggplant caviar (makes about 2 cups)

1 large eggplant

Extra-virgin olive oil for coating the eggplant, plus ½ cup

½ tablespoon whole cumin seeds

1 garlic clove, minced

2 tablespoons tahini (sesame paste)

1 teaspoon seasoned rice wine vinegar

1 teaspoon spicy pimentón de la vera (smoked paprika)

Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper

Boerum Hill has always had a Middle Eastern flavor, even more so when Saul Bolton opened his restaurant back in 1999. This dish is a nod to that region’s cuisine and to the neighborhood’s influence on Bolton’s cooking. Freekeh (sometimes spelled farik, frikeh, or just frik), is a roasted wheat grain that’s similar to farro and is common throughout the Arab word; the eggplant “caviar,” so named because the eggplant seeds resemble tiny fish eggs, is essentially a smooth and smoky baba ghanoush. True, there’s nothing especially Middle Eastern about the squab, but the dark silky meat melds perfectly with everything else on the plate. Be careful not to overcook it; there should be plenty of pink at the center when you cut into it.

Diver Scallops with White Bean Puree, Chorizo, and Pine Nuts / SAUL

“It’s just so freakin’ logical,” says chef Saul Bolton of this dish. “You have the spicy chorizo in there, which is fatty and bright red and just as tasty as can be (and it’s nice having it on the line so I can eat it all night long). You have the kale, which is incredibly minerally. (I grew up having kale stuffed down my throat by my mom, so I appreciate kale in a big way; that’s why I grew so tall.) You have the lemon in the pine nut condiment, which is like a reset button for the whole dish. And then you have the earth with the beans. You swish your fork through all that, take a sip of your wine … and hopefully you’ll be able to work your way through this dish without getting incredibly bored.” Be aware that you’ll need to soak the beans overnight.

* When Saul serves this dish at the restaurant, he often uses farro verde, a young farro available only to professional chefs, from Anson Mills in South Carolina. We suggest freekeh as the closest substitute; it can be found in most Middle Eastern groceries. (If you live in Brooklyn, it’s available at Oriental Pastry and Grocery on Atlantic Avenue.) But you can also use regular farro.