There’s One Place Like Home: Chef Luis

Over the past decade, give or take a couple of rounds of musical chairs on the New Canaan dining scene, Chef Luis has created a restaurant that’s more than the sum of its parts. It’s a game-day go-to, a fixture on the local shortlist for lunches with friends and date nights, and a dog-friendly outdoor patio in warm weather. Just don’t call it Mexican. Owner & head chef Luis Lopez will always crank out a dependable list of greatest Tex-Mex hits, like perfectly-turned pork shoulder Al Pastor and skirt steak fajitas. His La Americana Burger is decidedly one of the town’s very best. But his reimagined menu, which debuted last week, draws inspiration from farther afield. Most importantly, the vibe remains as easygoing and welcoming as home itself. 

“There are two types of people who like to go out to eat: people who like to eat, and people who like to be seen going out to eat,” says Luis Lopez, who has helmed the kitchen at his namesake Elm Street restaurant since opening it in 2011.  His latest menu expansion, described as “Mediterranean, with Latin flair,” is for the former type. Just like Virginia is for lovers, Chef Luis is for eaters.  And all the eaters in this town are lucky to have him: with his vision, and his team’s executional skill, the pasta, shellfish, and steak have hit their stride. You’ll find precise cooking techniques at Chef Luis, to be sure, but also, fearless use of flavors, textures, and diverse culinary traditions. 

Blue crab & roasted corn bisque, I will be seeing you soon

A recent evening began with the single most effective way to make winter, if it ever does come, seem exciting: Silvestro’s Blue Crab and Roasted Corn Bisque. It has the deep caramel color and rich flavor of a real Louisiana roux, and, to round out that cue, tasso ham relish with crunchy tortilla bits adorns the top. All you’ll need to stamp out the gloom of a January afternoon in Connecticut is that soup, a good book, and a window seat to watch the world go past.

The soup was followed by a new appetizer of asparagus spears in savory black truffle vinaigrette, topped with sunny-side-up quail eggs and slices of jamon Iberico. There’s a satisfyingly sneaky complexity to this dish, and it was much appreciated that the portion was dainty enough to save room for heavier main courses while still being a solid snack to enjoy with a glass of white wine. Other appetizer standouts included the excellent, decidedly nostalgic “Schwartz’s Beef”:  zingy steak tartare served with cornichons, capers, minced onion, and toast points, and Palladino’s Arancino, formed from lobster-and-saffron infused risotto and presented atop lemon parmesan cream. In the wrong hands, arancini can get a bit boring, but these proved flavorful, rich, and surprising, the kind of treat that disappears first at a cocktail party. 

Don’t cry for me, arancino

“My purest, deepest desire is for Chef Luis to bring back that freaking shrimp and lobster pasta,” our friend Robin recently admitted. Good news for her: Lupica’s Pasta, named for noted sportswriter Mike Lupica, is officially on the menu. In a corner of the world where you can’t swing a cat without hitting a plate of lobster pasta (please don’t swing cats) this is a noteworthy return. It’s unctuous and velvety, with shrimp and lobster cooked to textbook tender perfection, but the bright acidity from blistered cherry tomatoes cuts the leadening effects of butter way down. I gobbled it down before I could take a photo, and for that, I can’t say I’m 100% sorry. 

In a steak frites town, a serious contender

After this came Bothwell’s Steak Frites (you’ll know you’ve made your mark in New Canaan when, and only when, you find your name on the Chef Luis menu) that caused my husband to exclaim, “this is my new favorite steak place!” The steak, a perfectly-portioned 6-ounce filet mignon, arrived cooked to a beautiful medium rare (well-done steak eaters: who hurt you?) and glossed up with a punched-up, rich cognac pan sauce that practically demands a fry dip. It’s for the best that haricots verts graced the plate with some verdancy so I could, as my mom always instructed, “eat all the green things on the plate first.” With this steak frites, again, a wintery evening comes to mind, as do a few thousand laps around Irwin Park to counteract the cardiological realness of so many luxuriously sauced-up fries. All the same, every last bit disappeared from our plates. 

Chef Luis creates a sense of community and belonging not just for his restaurant’s regulars but for people, often brand-new to the United States, who work there. Says Lopez, “It has given me great joy to take care of new immigrants to this country, and to teach them a skill. I’ve made them cooks, line cooks, servers, and bartenders.” His team’s warmth and graciousness are noteworthy, even in a local dining culture where every server seems to operate with an abundance of cheer and patience. On a recent outdoor lunch visit, I brought our dog, and a takeout dish of ice water appeared in front of him without asking. A little gesture, but the kind you don’t soon forget.

Often duplicated, never replicated: the Runny Chip

Luis himself didn’t go to culinary school, and you won’t find puzzling, citified trends like tweezed microgreens or sea urchin foam on his plates, which is just as well. Instead, he and his team cook from the heart, preferring simple, known ingredients and bold flavor profiles. His collection of 3,000 cookbooks has traveled with him from kitchen to kitchen, but most often, his own recipes stay safe in the vault of his mind. Like his signature Runny Chip dessert, a chocolate chip cookie cake with a molten chocolate core served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It turns even the most sophisticated, abstemious diner into a gleeful ten-year-old, chasing melted chocolate around the plate with a spoon. Other kitchens may attempt it, but only one place has it down to an art. It’s that not-Tex-Mex restaurant on Elm Street where you always feel at home.